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ECHOES  FROM 
OVER  THERE 


TORIES 

N  BY  SOLDIERS 
WHO  FOUGHT 


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ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 


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From  "The  Friends  in  Need" 

We  girls  feel  that  we  know  the  American  soldiers 
thoroughly,  for  we  served  with  the  Regular  Army, 
the  National  Guard,  and  the  National  Army,  and  we 
served  with  them  while  they  rested  and  played  and 
while  they  fought  and  died. 

Always  they  were  true  Americans,  playing  with 
zest  and  fighting  with  determination  and  invincible 
courage. 

There  is  not  a  tribute  too  high  to  pay  them  and  we 
feel  that  we  were  very  privileged  to  have  been  with 
them  at  the  front,  from  their  first  activity  in  the  lines 
until  the  last  gun  was  fired. 

Very  cordially  yours, 

Irene  McIntyre. 
Gladys  E.   McIntyre. 


ECHOES 
FROM  OVER  THERE 

BY  THE  MEN  OF  THE  ARMY  AND 

MARINE  CORPS  WHO  FOUGHT 

IN  FRANCE 


Edited  by  CRAIG  HAMILTON 
and  LOUISE  CORBIN,  Authors 
of  "The  Sword  of  the  Valley," 
"The  Heart  of  a  Regular,"  etc. 


Illustrated 


Published  by 

The    Soldiers'    Publishing    Company 

New  York  City 


Copyright,  1919,  by 

The  Soldiers'  Publishing  Company 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into  foreign 

languages,  including  the  Scandinavian. 


the  dancey-davis  press 
new  York 


TO 

THE  MIGHTY  FINE  CHAPS 

WE  LEFT  OVER  THERE 


PREFACE 

Ask  a  doughboy  or  an  officer  about  "over  there" 
these  days,  and  nine  times  out  of  ten  his  answer  will 
be,  "Oh,  what's  the  use  of  talking  about  it?  Folks  are 
tired  of  hearing  about  the  war." 

The  boys,  lately  returned,  are  eager  to  tell  us  of 
what  they  have  seen  and  endured.  Is  it  possible  there 
is  no  audience  for  the  moving  stories  of  our  young 
heroes? 

We  believe  that  people,  through  the  return,  or  non- 
return, of  some  loved  one,  are  now  so  familiar  with 
the  reality  of  the  Great  War  that  they  have  little  inter- 
est in  war  fiction.  The  day  of  the  war  play  with  its 
battle  raging  offstage,  and  the  novel  with  its  villain 
regenerated  on  the  field,  is  past. 

Instead,  we  long  to  look  into  the  eyes  of  our  young 
fighters  and  hear  from  their  own  lips,  authentic  details 
of  what  happened  overseas. 

Will  you  yawn  and  think  of  other  matters  when 
your  boy  stretches  his  legs  before  your  fireplace  once 
more  and  begins,  "Well,  Dad,  it  was  this  way.  We 
went  over  the  top  at — " 

Or,  if  your  boy  paid  the  supreme  price  and  lies  with 
lips  forever  sealed,  would  you  not  listen  hungrily  to 
the  story  told  by  a  member  of  his  own  company,  by  his 
Buddy,  perhaps? 

Possibly,  you  had  no  one  dear  to  you  to  send  across. 
You  must  still  be  eager  to  learn  all  you  can  of  that 
strange  world  of  death,  and  struggle,  and  unimagin- 
able bravery  into  which  our  untried  youth  advanced, 
and  from  which  they  have  emerged,  laurel  crowned, 
our  great,  national  pride. 

We  offer  you  in  this  volume,  not  the  skillful  work 
of  fiction  writers,  but  veritable  human  documents.  The 
boys  themselves  wrote  these  stories,  or  dictated  them 
from  their  hospital  beds. 

You  will  find  adjectives  and  elaborate  descriptive 
writing  conspicuously  lacking.     But  if  you  have  imag- 


ination,   what   inspiring  drama   you   will   find   between 
the  lines  of  these  abrupt,  little  narratives! 

And  if  yon  lack  imagination,  these  tales  must  still 
be  eloquent,  for  they  are  abrim  with  the  personalities 
of  the  boys,  so  only  a  heart  is  necessary  to  understand 
and  love  them. 

The   Editors. 


CONTENTS 

Page 

McIntyre  Girls'  Letter iii 

Preface    1 

Part  I. 

The  First  to  Fight 

The  Stories  of  the  Marines 

Private   T.    S.   Allen 9 

Lieutenant  J.  A.  Brady 19 

Soldier's  Letter   25 

Sergeant  Samuel  P.  Capwell 27 

Soldier's  Letter  33 

Corporal  Meyer  J.  Lapine 35 

Private  Win  slow  Belton  Marshall 40 

Private  Frank  M.  Jacobs 45 

Private  Wayne  W.  French 54 

Private  Frank  J.  Vanderhoven 63 

Soldier's  Letter   67 

Corporal  Paul  Bonner 69 

Soldier's  Letter   72 

Part  II. 
The  Old  Army  and  the  New 

Captain  Wilmar  Bradshaw 75 

Private  Hyman  Zucker 83 

Sergeant  Ray  Smith 85 

Private  Charles  C.  Weise 90 

Letter  from  Lieutenant  Colonel  Roosevelt  95 

Private  Roy  Miller 97 

Sergeant   Spiras   Thomas 99 


Page 

Private  [rving  Abrahams 103 

Private  Charles  A.  Pettit 107 

Private   Albert   Marks Ill 

Sergeant   Joseph    Morixi 115 

American  Official  Communique  No.  133 119 

Corporal  John  H.  Bexxet 121 

Appendix  I. 

"Passed  by  the  Censor" 123 

Part  III. 

The  National  Army  and  Other  Troops 

Captain  George  U.   Harvey 137 

Private  Joseph  Rigler 153 

Private  Joseph  Sisenwein 157 

Private  George  Hart 169 

Lieutenant  Sidney  Schoenfeld 177 

Prviate  Louis  Weinberg 180 

Private  Larry  Wolff 182 

Sergeant   Max   Wicker 189 

Corporal   Alan    Streat 193 

Sergeant    Sidney    Ettinger 197 

Citation — Sergeant  W.   Maloney 199 

Sergeant  Victor  Vigorito  (Johnny  Victor)  200 

Sergeant   Michael   Donaldson 233 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

Gladys  and  Irene  McIntyre Frontispiece 

Private  T.  S.  Allen 7 

Sergeant   Samuel    Capwell 26 

Corporal  Meyer  Lapine . . . .  34 

Private   Frank  Vanderhoven 62 

Corporal  Paul  Bonner 68 

Captain  Wilmar  Bradshaw 74 

Private  Hyman  Zucker 82 

Private  Roy  Miller 97 

Private  Irving  Abrahams 102 

Private  Albert  Marks 110 

Sergeant    Joseph    Morini 114 

Corporal  John   Bennet 120 

Captain  George  Harvey 136 

Private    Joseph    Rigler 152 

Private  Joseph  Sisenwein 156 

Private  George  Hart 168 

Sergeant   Max  Wicker 188 

Sergeant  Michael  Donaldson 232 


PART  I 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 


PRIVATE  T.   S.  ALLEX 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

I. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Private  T.  S.  Allen 

Bom  in  Clear  Lake,  South  Dakota,  December  21,  1896. 
Enlisted  in  United  States  Marine  Corps  May  2,  191/ . 
Wounded  and  gassed  in  Belleau  Wood  May  8,  1918,  still  in 
Pclhavi  Bay  Hospital. 

His  Own  Story 

When  I  emerged  from  kilts  or  whatever  it  was  I 
wore  as  a  kid,  and  acquired  my  first  sling  shot,  I  began 
to  hanker  for  a  fight.  While  the  sun  was  high  in  the 
heavens,  I  would  venture  forth  from  the  house  in 
search  of  "redskins"  and  the  bold  bad  men  whose  ex- 
ploits we  still  heard  much  of  in  the  west  of  my  child- 
hood. As  the  shadows  lengthened,  the  house  always 
looked  good  to  me  while  my  mother's  arms  and  my 
father's  towering  bulk  offered  a  most  welcome  retreat 
from  the  hostile  hordes  my  youthful  imagination  had 
conjured  up. 

In  time,  I  became  the  proud  possessor  of  a  gun  and 
my  father  taught  me  to  use  and  respect  it. 

As  was  natural,  my  reading  ran  to  the  deeds  of  the 
men  of  the  last  frontier ;  then  along  came  my  school 
histories  with  their  stories  of  Lexington  and  Bunker 
Hill,  Valley  Forge,  Lundy's  Lane,  Chapultepec. 
These  seemed  to  me  like  those  stories  which  begin, 
"There  were  giants  in  those  days."  Still,  they  gave  a 
heroic  background  in  my  mind  for  the  closer  events  of 
the  Civil  War,  and  the  brief  but  glorious  episodes  of 
the  War  with  Spain,  in  reading  of  which  I  was  first 
introduced  to  the  Marines. 

This  may  seem  going  a  long  ways  back,  but,  I  take 
it,  that  in  telling  my  story  I  am  telling  the  story  of 
the  thousands  of  mighty  fine  lads  we  left  "over  there," 
for  in  these  fragments  of  my  youthful  activities  and 


10  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

mental  processes  1  believe  is  the  key  to  the  miracle 
we  wrought  in  France. 

As  the  years  ran  on,  I  did  not  plan  to  be  a  merchant, 
or  a  lawyer,  or  farmer,  but  kept  to  my  books,  my  hunt- 
ing and  fishing  and  my  dreams  of  soldiering, — of  "the 
day  of  glory." 

How  angry  I  used  to  get  at  the  pacifists  who  wanted 
to  abolish  war,  for  I  counted  myself,  even  then,  as 
among  the  "red  blooded"  that  Teddy  was  always  ap- 
pealing to.  And  how  ill  I  thought  Fate  had  used  me, 
in  that  I  had  been  born  too  late  for  even  the  "Relief 
of  Pekin." 

I  was,  of  course,  ashamed  of  my  military  dreams, 
and  after  the  fashion  of  youth,  carried  them  hid  in 
my  heart  where  they  fed  hungrily. 

The  War  in  Europe,  however,  found  me,  at  first, 
strangely  unresponsive.  Of  course,  I  was  interested 
and  read  everything  about  it  that  I  could  get  hold  of, 
but  it  did  not  seem  real  to  me.  I  just  could  not  believe 
somehow,  that  armies  were  once  more  arrayed  for 
battle. 

But  the  ferment  was  at  work.  As  the  wrar  ran  on, 
month  after  month,  I  became,  first  of  all,  a  partisan. 
It  was  the  Canadians  who  "got"  me. 

They  came  from  our  side  of  the  water.  Many  of 
them  were  Americans,  so  the  papers  said.  Well,  if  the 
Americans  were  fighting,  I  was  with  them,  no  matter 
what  uniform  they  wore. 

There  were  many  German  sympathizers  in  our  neck 
of  the  woods,  and  I  had  all  the  fighting  I  wanted  every 
day  at  school. 

Nothing  like  fighting  for  a  thing  to  make  a  man 
value  it. 

I  began  to  turn  over  in  my  mind  the  project  of  run- 
ning away  to  join  the  Canadians,  but  something  held 
me  back. 

Then  America  entered  the  War.  My  long  dreamed 
of  day  had  come. 

On  May  2,  1917,  at  Maryland,  California,  I  enlisted 
in  the  Marines. 


ECHOES  FROM  0  VER  THERE  1 1 

The  first  to  fight!  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  belonged 
among  the  first. 

One  may  ask,  "Why  the  Marines?" 

Well,  as  I  have  said,  I  had  read  a  great  deal  of  our 
history  and  I  had  seen  a  few  soldiers  and  an  occasional 
Marine.  The  soldiers  looked  like  husky  chaps,  but 
there  was  something  about  the  Marines  you  could 
not  forget. 

Alert,  clean,  always  minding  their  own  business, 
getting  all  that  was  their  due  quietly  but  firmly,  they 
left  a  deep  impression  on  me  of  being  men  who  were 
able  to  look  out  for  themselves  in  any  situation. 

I  may  seem  a  "stuck  up"  boy  to  have  elected  myself 
to  that  illustrious  company.  But  I  tell  you  I  felt  that 
I  "belonged." 

For  fourteen  weeks,  they  put  me  through  the  marine 
course  of  training  at  the  Maryland  Camp  and  I'm 
frank  to  admit  that  there  were  many  bitter  moments 
when  I  wondered  if  I  had  not  paid  myself  too  much 
of  a  compliment  in  picking  out  the  Marines. 

There  were  many  things  about  them,  too,  which  sur- 
prised me.  Though  the  occasional  Marines  I  had  seen 
had  been  young  men,  still  my  idea  of  a  Marine  had 
been  a  grizzled  old  fighting  man,  who  was  a  cross  be- 
tween John  L.  Sullivan  and  a  bull  fighter.  My  com- 
panions in  camp  were  youths  like  myself,  even  the 
sergeants  and  most  of  the  lieutenants  were  but  little 
older  than  myself. 

One  thing  helped  me  with  the  outfit.  I  qualified  on 
the  range  as  a  sharpshooter  and  the  drill-sergeants  did 
the  rest. 

I  was  a  Marine  and  I  was  not, 

I  belonged  and  I  did  not.  So  matters  stood;  when 
they  shipped  us  to  Quantico,  Virginia. 

On  the  way,  we  had  a  train  wreck.  Some  of  the 
bunch  were  killed  and  many  were  hurt.  Life  and  the 
service  gained  something  of  reality  from  that  expe- 
rience. But  when  we  reached  Quantico,  and  as  a 
member  of  the  78th  Company,  I  also  became  one  of 
the  6th  Regiment  of  the  United  States  Marine  Corps, 


12  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

1  really  first  came  into  my  heritage  of  "belonging"  to 

the  Marines. 

Colonel  A.  W.  Catlin,  now  Brigadier-General  Catlin, 
was  our  commanding  officer  and  he  sure  could  put  jazz 
into  a  lot  of  men,  gathered  from  all  over  the  country, 
and  make  them  feel  that  a  regiment  of  Marines  was 
the  greatest  thing  they  ever  had  been  or  ever  would  be 
associated  with. 

Drill,  drill,  inspection,  and  still  more  drill.  Then 
along  about  the  middle  of  January,  1918,  we  slipped 
aboard  a  transport  one  night  and  sailed  for  France, 
arriving  at  St.  Xazaire  on  February  3rd. 

France  did  not  look  anything  like  I  thought  it 
would.  I  had  expected  to  see  everything  smart  and 
sort  of  all  aressed  up.  But  here  it  was  old  fashioned. 
French  soldiers  going  about  in  uniforms  of  bright 
colors.  Red  trousers  and  gold  braid.  The  lighthouses 
and  cottages  painted  all  colors,  pink,  yellow  and  blue; 
and  the  people  as  quaint  as  the  town. 

"Some  one  has  been  telling  it  to  the  Marines,"  said 
my  comrade  of  the  moment,  "this  place  ain't  France.  I 
know  better.  I  seen  too  many  movies  of  Paris  down  in 
Newport,  Tennessee,  where  I  come  from." 

He  found  those  to  agree  and  disagree  with  him. 
A  heated  argument  started  which  the  bugler  stopped 
as  he  barked  us  an  order. 

The  people  were  kind  to  us,  though  somewhat  shy. 
They  struck  me  as  being  disappointed  in  a  way,  as 
though  we  were  not  up  to  sample.  I  didn't  get  it  at 
the  time,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  later  that  they  were 
looking  for  something  about  seven  feet  tall  with  whis- 
kers, like  the  bearded  lady  in  the  circus. 

A  three-day  trip  in  tiny  box  cars  brought  us  to  Robe- 
court,  a  town  near  Nancy,  where  we  began  some  more 
training  and  learned  about  cooties,  and  trenches,  rats, 
French  weather,  and  mud. 

By  the  middle  of  March,  we  were  on  the  line,  having 
taken  over  some  old  French  trenches  near  Verdun. 
It  was  a  quiet  sector,  a  so-called  training  sector. 

We   had   patrol    work,   and    "stood   to,"   and    went 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  13 

through  all  the  rest  of  it.  While  there  were  a  few 
of  the  fellows  killed,  it  seemed  unreal,  as  it  had  in 
the  newspapers  at  the  beginning  of  the  war.  Frankly, 
we  were  bored  and  little  interested,  and  could  not  un- 
derstand why  it  had  been  necessary  to  bring  us  over 
to  finish  the  job. 

Then  it  got  to  be  June,  and  they  moved  us  up  to  a 
place  you  have  read  about  called  Belleau  Wood.  I'd 
say  that  position  held  our  attention  all  right.  It  sure 
did  measure  up  to  everything  one  had  ever  heard  of. 
or  imagined  about  this  war  or  any  other. 

The  country  was  broken.  There  were  wheat  fields 
tucked  in  among  patches  of  brush  and  tall  trees.  An 
occasional  village  half  seen,  half  hidden  among  trees 
and  foliage.  Ravines,  little  knolls  and  hills  and,  just 
where  we  entrenched,  a  great  rough  stretch  of  forest, 
rolling  up  and  spreading  out  to  either  side. 

Our  line  ran  along  the  crest  of  ground  rising  above 
a  small  ravine.  There  were  a  few  rods  of  open  ground 
and  then  the  woods.     Belleau  Wood. 

The  world  was  filled  with  confusion,  noise  and  ex- 
citement. The  French  troops  we  came  in  touch  with, 
had  been  having  a  hard  time  of  it,  around  that  neigh- 
borhood, and  some  had  been  shot  up  elsewhere  and 
brought  there  for  rest.  A  fine  place  to  rest  I'd  say 
it  was. 

My  company  dug  its  fox  holes  along  the  line  of  the 
ravine.  The  Huns  left  us  pretty  much  alone  while 
we  were  at  it;  I  guess  because  a  drove  of  French 
"seventy-fives"  somewhere  back  of  us  were  worrying 
them   about   up   to  capacity. 

Being  marines,  we  knew  that  if  the  French  guns 
were  putting  in  shell  as  fast  as  they  were,  something 
was  due  to  come  along. 

Sure  enough !  The  German  guns  began  to  tune  up. 
A  deepening  roar  came  from  the  hills  beyond  the 
woods,  while  out  from  the  concealed  machine  gun  po- 
sitions in  the  woods,  a  well-directed  machine  gun  fire 
whipped  our  position. 

We  were  being  punished  without  being  able  to  reply, 


14 ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

for  the  woods  hid  the  enemy  from  us.  The  French 
'm  \  enty-fives"  seemed  to  sense  our  uneasiness,  for  they 
increased   the  volume  of  their  fire  in  a  great  wave. 

"Here  they  come!"  a  shrill  boyish  voice  piped  up. 

"Hold  your  fire!"  the  injunction  ran  from  officer 
to  officer  and  man  to  man. 

The  German  barrage  lifted;  the  French  guns  almost 
ceased  firing.  The  men  about  me  were  cursing  and 
swearing  in  that  choice  collection  of  profanity  that  be- 
longs to  the  Marines.  It  took  me  back  swiftly,  on 
the  wings  of  memory,  to  a  lonely  walk  in  the  woods  I 
had  taken,  as  a  boy,  when  I  had  whistled  to  keep  up 
my  courage. 

The  German  troops  were  clear  of  the  woods.  On 
they  came  with  closed  ranks  in  four  lines.  One  looked 
at  them  with  almost  a  friendly  interest.  No  particular 
hate  or  fear.  And  yet  there  was  a  queer  sensation 
along  the  spine,  and  the  scalp  seemed  to  itch  from 
the  tug  of  the  hair  at  the  roots.  The  fingers  bit  into 
the  rifle. 

"Hold  your  fire !" 

As  the  command  rang  on  my  ears  with  a  sharpness 
that  enforced  obedience,  I  seemed  to  be  standing  on 
Bunker  Hill  and  hear  the  command :  "Wait  till  you  see 
the  whites  of  their  eyes !" 

I  think  I  know  how  those  old  Yanks  felt  that  day, 
as  the  enemy  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 

The  next  I  recall  is  firing.  Firing.  Firing.  My 
fingers  were  tearing  greedily  at  more  ammunition, 
then  the  instinct  of  the  hunter  restrained  me.  I  began 
to  fire  slower,  looking  for  my  mark,  making  sure  of  a 
hit.  The  Huns  now  appeared  to  me  almost  on  top  of 
us  and  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  there  was  nothing  more 
to  aim  at.  A  few  scattered  groups  with  hands  held 
up,  racing  for  our  lines  and  shouting  "Kamerad ! 
Kamerad !" 

We  had  ceased  firing,  but  still  these  terror  stricken 
men  withered  away.  It  was  their  own  machine  gun- 
ners behind  them,  in  the  woods,  deliberately  shooting 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 15 

their  own  men  who  had  failed  to  carry  home  an  im- 
possible charge. 

I  felt  suddenly  sick.  From  that  moment,  I  hated  the 
Hun  and  treated  him  without  mercy. 

The  German  guns  opened  on  us  again  and  the 
French  replied.  Another  period  of  torment  began ; 
a  period  when  many  gallant  lads  "went  west"  or,  badly 
wounded,  were  sent  to  the  rear  after  dark. 

Our  position  was  the  most  advanced  of  the  whole 
line. 

The  Hun  wanted  us  out  of  there,  but  there  we  stayed 
until  relieved  and  the  fighting  had  swept  to  other  parts 
of  the  line. 

A  little  later,  I  mean  of  course  a  few  days  later,  the 
defensive  game  was  over.  We  had  the  ball,  and  the 
line  we  had  to  put  it  across  was  Bouresches.  The  96th 
company  of  Marines  was  on  our  right,  if  my  memory 
is  correct,  and  under  cover  of  our  advance  and  the  ex- 
cellent work  of  the  guns,  a  handful  of  them  reached 
the  town.  The  fields  they  had  crossed  were  brown 
with  the  bodies  of  our  boys,  who  had  not  sought  to  take 
cover  but  had  driven  straight  ahead  at  their  object  in 
the  face  of  continuous  bursts  of  well-directed  machine 
gun  fire. 

Oh,  the  Huns  bled  us  that  day !  But  the  blood  was 
not  shed  in  vain,  for  the  whole  German  line,  clear 
to  the  English  channel,  creaked  from  the  blow  struck 
by  a  handful  of  American  Marines,  most  of  whom 
were   under  twenty-one. 

Well,  as  I  started  to  say,  a  handful  of  the  96th  got 
into  town  and  hung  on  by  the  skin  of  their  teeth  while 
fighting  hand  to  hand  with  picked  German  shock 
troops.  They  managed  to  get  a  runner  back  asking  for 
help,  and  I'd  say  every  man  in  the  division  (the  Sec- 
ond) wanted  to  go  to  their  help. 

They  got  about  a  platoon  together  finally,  from  po- 
sitions where  a  man  or  two  could  be  spared,  and  they 
went  through  to  help  the  96th.  We  held  Bouresches 
when  that  fight  was  over. 

Once  more  the  war  had  measured  up  to  expectations. 


16  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Our  dead  were  numbered  by  the  thousands,  and 
we  had  been  tested,  almost  to  the  limit.  There  had 
been  no  time  for  thinking,  little  to  notice  what  was 
going  on. 

One  simply  fought  by  instinct  and,  being  a  Marine, 
fought  in  the  right  way.  Did  the  correct  thing.  Ma- 
rines are  born,  not  made  by  enlisting  in  the  corps. 
Enlisting  in  the  corps  simply  develops  the  Marine 
or  uncovers  a  yellow  streak  and  the  man  is  dropped. 
All  the  drill  in  the  world  would  not  teach  men  the 
things  that  I  saw  boys  like  Paul  Bonner  of  New  York 
do.  Paul,  who  used  to  be  a  jewelry  salesman  before 
the  war,  and  joined  the  Marines  because  he,  too, 
thought  that  he  belonged !  Paul  who  always  kept  his 
smile  and  his  head,  and  who  threw  his  life  away  a 
dozen  times  in  a  day  and  lived  to  come  home ! 

I  can't  go  on  and  carry  you  through  the  fight  for 
Belleau  Wood.  It  needs  a  book  itself,  but  as  this  is 
my  story,  I'll  jump  ahead  a  little  to  where  I  was  hit. 

Our  lines  were  advancing  by  sheer  pluck.  I  think 
it  was  in  the  afternoon  of  June  13th,  that  my  company 
took  up  a  position  in  a  heavily  wooded  valley.  When 
I  say  heavily  wooded,  I  mean  a  place  where  the 
thickets  of  underbrush  grew  between  the  trees  higher 
than  a  tall  man's  head,  and  paths  and  roads  were  few 
and  far  between,  while  the  heavy  foliage  of  early 
spring  overhead,  shut  out  the  light  of  day  until  it 
was  always  twilight  among  the  trees,  and  at  night  so 
dark  a  man  could  not  see  his  hand  before  his  face.  No 
use  trying  to  wear  a  gas  mask,  for  you  could  not  see 
with  it  on,  and  twigs  and  branches  were  always  tear- 
ing it  out  of  position. 

The  German  planes  had  been  watching  us  all  day, 
and  they  knew  where  we  were  all  right. 

It  was  a  desperate  hole  for  troops  to  be  in,  and  we 
were  deployed  of  necessity  to  cover  the  front,  as  well 
as  for  protection  from  the  shell  fire  we  knew  was 
coming. 

The  late  afternoon  and  evening  passed  quietly.  We 
slipped  some  men  back  to  a  well  from  which  the  Ger- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 17 

man  dead  had  been  taken  but  a  few  hours  before. 
The  water  was  foul  with  taint,  but  at  least  it  was 
water.  Chow  was  due  along  about  midnight,  and  in 
spite  of  the  wickedness  of  our  situation  we  began  to 
cheer  up.  In  the  morning,  it  was  our  job  to  clean  out 
the  last  of  Belleau  Wood  in  our  front. 

Almost  on  the  hour  of  midnight,  when  the  chow  was 
being  distributed,  the  Hun  opened  up  everything  in 
that  part  of  the  country  on  the  valley,  which  had,  of 
course,  been  accurately  registered. 

H.  E.,  shrapnel,  whizz  bangs,  and  mustard  gas  shell 
rained  on  us. 

There  was  no  standing  such  fire.  It  meant  annihila- 
tion for  the  whole  unit  and  perhaps  a  hole  in  our  line. 
There  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  and  that  was  to  get 
out  before  the  gas  had  done  its  work. 

We  began  to  feel  our  way  out  of  the  trap.  The 
darkness  of  the  place  was  made  darker  still  by  the 
flashes  of  the  exploding  shell;  the  mustard  gas  was 
getting  in  its  devilish  work,  while  perfectly  helpless 
before  the  wrath  of  the  Hun,  we  stumbled  blindly  and 
in  agony  toward  the  rear. 

The  human  senses  reeled  into  oblivion  before  such 
an  attack.  Men  lived  by  the  spirit  that  is  in  them, 
"carrying  on,"  though  it  was  to  the  rear,  with  a  thought 
for  the  honor  of  the  regiment  and  for  the  need  of  the 
boy  next  who  had  fallen. 

We  came  out  of  that  place  finally — some  of  us. 

And  we  came  out  as  an  organized  military  command. 
We  had  our  weapons  with  us  and  our  wounded. 
Driven  back,  decimated,  in  agony,  but  still  conscious 
that  we  were  Marines  of  the  6th  Regiment,  whose 
dead  had  fallen  without  a  chance  for  a  blow. 

Every  survivor  in  the  company  went  to  the  hospital, 
except  the  two  cooks  who  were  not  there. 

It  was  in  that  engagement,  that  I  was  hit  and  gassed. 

I  do  not  recall  being  hit,  though  I  had  a  shrapnel 
bullet  through  my  leg. 

Now,  I  have  written  for  you  of  the  boyhood  hours 
when  in  my  mind,  as  well  as  in  the  minds  of  my  fel- 


18  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

lows,  the  mental  thews  were  being  formed.  And  I 
have  told  you  as  briefly  as  I  know  how,  perhaps  too 
briefly,  of  the  hours  when  those  thews  were  tested. 
I  hope  it  will  be  a  little  plainer  just  how  it  was  we 
went  over  so  blithely,  and  bore  ourselves  so  well. 

It  was  September,  before  I  was  back  with  my  regi- 
ment to  go  with  it  through  to  the  signing  of  the  armis- 
tice. The  gas  and  the  wound,  however,  still  bothered 
me  so  I  went  to  the  hospital  again  and  have  just  re- 
turned to  the  United  States.  At  the  time  of  writing 
this,  on  May  8th,  I  am  still  in  Pelham  Bay  hospital. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  19 


II. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Lieutenant  Joseph  A.  Brady 

Reporter  for  New  York  Evening  World.  Commissioned  a 
Lieutenant  and  assigned  second  battalion,  Fifth  Regiment  of 
United  States  Marine  Corps.  Fought  at  Belleau  Wood  and 
in  the  Soissons  offensive. 

His  Own  Story  of  the  First  Day  of  the  Offensive 

Suppose  you  were  a  soldier  and  for  four  months  a 
strong  and  hideous  enemy  had  been  heaving  steadily 
into  the  columns  of  your  army  great  quantities  of  gas, 
flame,  shells  and  bullets  and  had  been  ceaselessly  forc- 
ing you  back ;  and  you,  sometimes  starving  and  thirsty, 
had  been  fighting  him  back,  and  then  suppose  on  a 
clear  summer  morning  the  earth  had  opened  and 
drawn  your  enemy  into  a  literal  vortex  of  hellfire,  what 
would  you  do?  Would  you  first  go  into  a  wild  de- 
lirium of  joy  and  then  fall  down  in  the  fields  in  a  deep, 
contented  sleep?  That  is  just  what  most  of  us  did 
who  had  been  fighting  for  four  months  when  the  great 
offensive  of  the  Allied  Armies  overwhelmed  the  Ger- 
man Army  south  of  Soissons  on  July  18  last. 

When  we  stepped  from  the  auto  trucks  in  which  we 
had  been  riding  for  thirty  hours,  on  the  afternoon  of 
July  17,  on  the  edge  of  the  Villers-Cotterets  Forest,  we 
did  not  know  that  we  were  going  into  battle,  but  we 
did  know  that  we  were  tired  and  hungry.  We  looked 
for  food  and  there  was  none.  We  looked  for  water, 
but  it  was  poisonous,  and  guards  with  bayonets  kept 
it  from  us.  The  only  food  was  grass,  and  we  could  eat 
that  without  water.  There  were  thousands  of  us  there, 
but  each  man  only  thought  or  realized  that  he  alone 
was  there. 

We  wearily  plodded  through  the  deep  roads  of  the 
forest,  but  we  did  not  know  where  we  were  going. 


20  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Then  we  noticed  cavalry,  thousands  of  horses,  standing 
quietly  in  the  woods.  And  tanks,  standing  silent  and 
appearing  not  at  all  like  the  great  demons  we  had  been 
told  they  were.  Guns  were  everywhere,  large,  medium 
and  small.  Two  hundred  thousand  men  were  there, 
and  on  that  quiet  summer  day  beyond  the  confines  of 
the  forest  you  would  not  know  there  was  a  soul  there. 
Enemy  aeroplanes  above  hummed  and  the  aviators 
peered  in  vain  through  the  thick  foliage  of  the  mighty 
trees. 

Night  came,  and  with  it  rain  and  lightning,  and 
thunder,  and  action.  The  tanks,  the  great  guns  and  the 
ammunition  wagons  rumbled  out  on  the  roads.  The  sol- 
diers staggered  along  up  to  their  knees  in  mud  in  the 
ditches  alongside  the  roads ;  now  and  then  they 
cried  out  as  a  horse  slipped  and  a  wagon  filled  with 
heavy  shells  fell  and  crushed  some  of  them.  For  forty- 
eight  hours  some  had  been  without  sleep.  The  officers 
fought  every  step  of  the  way  to  keep  alert  for  what 
was  to  come,  and  they  prayed  to  God  the  Germans 
would  not  find  out  what  was  going  on,  for  knowledge 
to  the  Germans  then  would  have  meant  certain  de- 
struction to  a  great  allied  army. 

Somewhere  along  the  fifth  mile,  we  were  stopped 
and  a  call  for  officers  went  out.  We,  the  officers  of  the 
5th  Regiment,  United  States  Marines,  assembled  in  a 
little  clearing  and  met  Col.  Logan  Pheland.  He  told 
us  briefly  we  were  going  to  attack  and  attack  big — - 
along  a  thirty-mile  front.  We  had  the  post  of  honor, 
he  said,  along  with  the  1st  American  Division,  and 
French  Zouaves  were  to  be  on  our  left.  My  battalion, 
the  2d,  was  to  be  in  the  first  wave;  X  day  and  Z  hour 
were  the  time  for  the  attack.  We  laughed,  for  we 
knew  it  meant  in  plain  language  early  the  next 
morning. 

I  was  battalion  scout  officer  and  Major  Ralph  S. 
Kayser  gave  me  the  maps  and  told  me  to  mark  ofr"  the 
objectives  and  directions.  In  the  pouring  rain,  and 
with  the  help  of  my  smothered  flashlight,  I  marked  the 
maps  and  handed  them  out  to  the  company  command- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  21 

ers.  I  saw  that  Capt.  Wass  was  there,  Lieut.  Elliott 
Cooke,  Lieut.  Becker,  Lieut.  Zyschke  and  myself.  We 
were  all  that  were  left  out  of  the  nine  officers  that 
started  in  the  mess  of  the  18th  Company  at  Verdun  in 
March.  The  next  night  Wass  and  Becker  were  dead, 
and  Cooke,  Zyschke  and  I  were  headed  for  the  hos- 
pital. Two  days  before,  Zyschke  and  I  had  matched  to 
see  who  would  be  the  next  officer  to  go  to  the  States 
as  an  instructor  and  Zyschke  had  won ;  he  was  to  leave 
after  the  attack. 

Col.  Pheland  called  to  me  and  asked  me  to  go  ahead 
of  the  regiment  with  him  to  find  the  guides  who  were 
to  take  us  to  the  jumping-off  place.  We  plunged 
ahead,  dodging  horses,  tanks  and  artillery.  It  was 
pitch  dark,  the  only  light  coming  from  an  occasional 
flash  of  lightning.  On  we  went  to  the  Paris  road 
where  the  guides  were  to  be.  No  one  was  there.  We 
awakened  sleepy  French  artillery  officers,  but  they  told 
us  they  had  just  arrived  and  could  not  help  us.  We 
stood  in  the  woods  waiting  for  the  battalions  with  no 
definite  idea  of  where  to  go,  and  in  an  hour  and  a  half, 
at  4:30  A.M.,  we  were  to  attack. 

Right  there  came  deep  if  unspoken  curses;  no 
guides,  no  time,  no  food,  little  ammunition  and  pre- 
cious little  information,  except  that  in  an  hour  and 
a  half  two  thousand  guns  would  open  a  barrage  which 
we  were  to  follow,  and  a  hundred  thousand  German 
shell  would  fail  to  stop  us  before  we  were  within  a 
mile  of  where  we  were  to  attack.  The  battalions  came 
up  and  we  plodded  on.  When  we  stopped  figuring 
how  we  were  going  to  pull  out,  we  prayed. 

Daylight  came  suddenly.  It  revealed  artillery  of- 
ficers standing  just  within  the  forest  borders  with 
watches  in  their  hands.  It  revealed  twenty  minutes 
to  make  the  attacking  point,  and  it  showed  a  thousand 
yards  away  a  small  arms  ammunition  dump.  The 
men  rushed  to  the  dump.  I  saw  a  dozen  French  sol- 
diers hurrying  away.  They  had  been  relieved  from 
the  trenches.  I  ran  after  them.  One  of  them  spoke 
English.    He  had  lived  in  New  York. 


22  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

"Guides,"  I  shouted.  "Guides,  soldiers  to  lake  us 
in.    We  are  late.     Hurry ;  hurry." 

The  Frenchman,  who  spoke  English,  hurriedly  ex- 
plained to  the  others,  and  these  dozen  poilus,  who  were 
on  their  way  out  to  safety,  water  and  food,  turned  and 
volunteered  to  lead  us  in.  They  knew  it  meant  death. 
It  did,  indeed,  to  some  of  them,  and  they  went  back 
to  take  it,  all  for  La  Patrie  and  because  the  Americans 
asked  them. 

The  men  were  grabbing  ammunition,  bullets  and 
grenades  and  as  fast  as  they  finished,  I  was  putting 
them  in  charge  of  a  poilu  to  lead  them  in.  The  last 
man  cleared.  Down  the  road  we  went,  running,  for 
the  artillery  officers  would  be  calling  off  the  seconds 
now.  Then  it  came.  I  heard  a  quiet  human  voice.  I 
suppose  it  said  fire.  Perhaps  many  voices  said  it  In 
a  second  came  the  blast  of  two  thousand  guns.  The 
concussion  almost  threw  us  over  but  we  went  on,  catch- 
ing our  breaths  and  hardly  knowing  for  a  minute  w  hat 
it  was. 

There  was  no  noise,  that  is,  no  distinct  noise,  there 
was  just  a  terrible  heaving  and  tearing.  I  say  the  im- 
pression was  that  there  was  no  noise,  because  men  next 
to  you  were  shouting  and  you  could  not  hear  them.  It 
was  so  noisy  you  could  not  hear  anything,  but  some- 
thing that  prevented  hearing.  -You  could  see,  however, 
and  ahead  we  saw  soaring  lights,  the  signal  lights  of 
the  Germans  calling  for  their  barrage. 

The  first  German  shell  hit  in  the  hard  road  ahead 
of  us.  We  saw  it.  We  did  not  hear  it.  It  cut  away 
the  first  eight  men  of  our  column.  Into  the  ditches  at 
the  side  of  the  road  we  tumbled  and  the  German 
barrage  hit  on  the  road.  We  had  been  caught  before 
we  got  in ! 

A  minute  we  lay  there  under  the  pounding  ind  then 
in  the  forest  to  the  right  and  left,  we  saw  huge  trees 
going  up  by  the  roots  and  French  soldiers  with  ropes 
about  them  hauling  them  down.  Trees  a  hundred  feet 
tall  were  falling.  The  French  had  mined  under  the 
roots  and  were  blowing  them  up  to  make  new  roads 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 23 

for  t*ie  tanks.  Then  the  monsters  came  plunging 
through.  It  was  our  chance !  While  the  German 
barrage  was  falling  on  the  main  roads,  the  French  were 
going  through  the  forest  and  that  was  whtre  we 
headed  with  the  soaring  signal  lights  of  the  German 
line  as  our  objective. 

The  rain  had  stopped  and  the  sun  was  out.  We 
reached  the  edge  of  the  black  woods  and  rushed  out 
into  a  wheat  field.  The  green  and  golden  fields 
stretched  away  for  five  miles  and  ahead  we  went. 
Overhead  a  hundred  aeroplanes  were  moving;  not 
circling  as  they  seem  to  be  when  they  are  high,  but 
rushing  and  tearing  a  few  hundred  feet  above  us.  And 
ahead  in  the  fields  German  batteries  with  gun  noses 
pointed  a  few  inches  above  the  wheat  were  flashing 
out. 

But  greater  than  all,  not  many  yards  away,  were 
groups  of  Germans  running  low  toward  us  with  their 
hands  up,  abject  terror  in  their  faces.  Our  barrage 
was  going  on  now  and  through  the  spurting  fountains 
of  earth  which  it  was  sending  up,  we  could  see  hun- 
dreds of  Germans  running  before  it  and  we  could  see 
scores  of  tanks  plunging  into  them,  spitting  machine 
gun  and  shell  fire  at  them.  Now  and  then,  one  of  our 
own  would  go  down  but  Germans  were  going  by  the 
score.  Suddenly  fast  armored  motor  cars  swept  up 
the  side  roads  firing  into  the  German  machine  gunners 
in  the  gulleys  as  they  went. 

The  men  were  wild  as  they  tore  on.  No  fatigue 
now,  just  Boche  lust.  Over  the  old  German  trenches 
they  ran  stopping  only  for  the  occasional  obstinate 
Boche  who  kept  firing  until  they  got  him.  We  struck 
the  first  objective,  an  old  farm  house,  and  we  dove 
into  the  cellars.  That  first  line  of  boys  kept  going  on. 
It  could  not  be  stopped  at  the  first  objective. 

In  the  cool  cellar  of  the  first  farm  house  I  stopped 
with  Major  Kayser,  and  the  Battalion  Adjutant,  Lieut. 
LeGendre.  It  wras  the  objective  and  we  had  to  get  the 
men  together  to  go  on  further.  A  few  dead  Germans 
were  above  the  cellar  but  inside  was  a  queer  scene. 


2  1  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

The  candles  were  still  lighted  on  the  table  and  the 

breakfast  of  the  German  Captain  was  still  there.  We 
ate  some  of  the  black  bread,  sipped  some  of  the  Rhine 
wine,  searched  for  maps  and  information  and  hurried 
out  to  go  further. 

Miles  out,  tank-  and  armored  motor  cars  were  still 
smashing  into  the  German  line,  aeroplanes  were  fight- 
ing a  dozen  battles  overhead,  artillery  was  rushing  up, 
stopping  a  few  minutes  at  a  time  to  fire.  Everywhere 
our  men  were  lying  about  in  the  fields.  Dead?  No. 
Just  asleep. 

"Hell,  they're  licked,"  grouched  the  first  one  awak- 
ened by  a  Sergeant,  "and  I  don't  see  why  I've  got  to 
run  'em  to  death." 

The  story  of  how  the  gallant  kids  who  had  stopped 
the  Boche  for  four  months,  and  who  went  crazy  with 
joy  when  they  started  him  to  Berlin,  then  laid  down 
under  the  shell  fire  and  slept  for  an  hour,  is  one  story. 
But  how  they  roused  themselves  from  their  sleep  and 
started  after  him  and  kept  going  after  him  for  three 
davs  is  another. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  25 


Soldier  s  Letter 

"I  saw  the  Germans  who  were  on  outpost  duty 
dash  back  into  the  woods  to  give  the  warning  that  the 
Americans  were  coming.  A  command  ripped  along 
the  column  and  we  deployed  into  skirmish  formation 
on  the  run,  broke  into  our  battle  yell,  and  charged  the 
woods  on  the  very  heels  of  the  enemy's  outpost. 

"The  Huns  did  not  have  a  chance  to  fire  a  shot  be- 
fore we  were  among  them.  They  were  good  troops 
and  stayed  to  fight  it  out.  I  have  been  in  some  fights 
before  this,  but  this  was  the  bloodiest  work  of  the  war, 
so  far  for  me. 

"A  Hun  struck  at  me  with  his  bayonet.  I  could  not 
defend  myself  with  my  gun  at  the  moment  as  a  branch 
was  in  the  way.  I  parried  the  thrust  with  my  left  arm, 
let  go  my  gun,  ducked,  the  way  Young  Fulton  taught 
us  in  camp,  and  uppercut  the  fellow  hard.  He  fell 
back  stunned.  With  the  knife  I  had  in  my  leggings,  I 
finished  him  neatly,  recovered  my  gun,  and  went  on. 

"It  takes  time  to  tell  it,  but  it  happened  faster  than 
you  could  think.  Uncle  Sam  sure  did  something  for 
us  boys  when  he  had  us  taught  to  use  our  'dukes.'  I 
don't  know  whether  Fulton  is  over  here  or  not,  but 
if  he  is  still  in  America,  I  wish  you  would  send  him 
mv  letter,  for  I  want  him  to  know  he  saved  one  boy's 
life." 


SERGEANT  S.  P.  CAPWELL 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  27 

III. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Sergeant  Samuel  P.  Capwell 

Born  in  the  State  of  Pennsylvania.  Enlisted  in  United 
States  Marine  Corps  in  Detroit,  Michigan,  on  September  9, 
1917.  Trained  Paris  Island  and  Ouantico,  Va.  Sent  to 
France  August,  1918.  Severely  wounded  in  the  Argonne  of- 
fensive, losing  his  right  arm  and  receiving  other  injuries. 

I  did  not  see  so  very  much  of  the  war  and  it  seems 
to  me  to  be  somewhat  presumptuous  to  insert  in  the 
records  of  our  fighting  boys,  the  short  and  simple  story 
of  my  experience  in  action. 

However,  what  I  did  see  of  the  War  was  all  war. 
It  was  lively  while  it  lasted,  and  the  memories  of  those 
few  weeks  will  serve  me  for  a  life  time. 

Enlisting  in  Detroit,  Michigan,  on  September  9, 
1917,  in  the  United  States  Marine  Corps,  I  was  sent 
to  the  splendid  camp  the  Marines  had  organized  at 
Paris  Island,  S.  C.  There  I  was  thoroughly  trained, 
and  when  the  officers  judged  me  fit  for  foreign  service, 
I  was  transferred  to  the  overseas  training  camp  at 
Ouantico,  Virginia. 

Some  bird  of  a  training  camp,  I'd  say  that  was. 
Colonel  A.  W.  Catlin,  who  had  organized  it,  had  done 
a  boss  job,  and  the  training  followed  the  general  lines 
of  Marine  training  with  modifications  and  additions 
made  necessary  by  conditions  in  France. 

We  learned  to  shoot  straight,  think  quick,  and  act 
even  quicker,  to  do  the  right  thing  under  the  circum- 
stances of  any  given  case,  and  do  it  through  instinct. 

We  had  bayonet  exercise  that  sometimes  got  pretty 
realistic. 

"Snarl  when  you  use  the  bayonet!"  was  the  advice 
some  English  instructors  gave  us,  but  it  did  not  fit  in 
with  the  Marine  idea,  which  was  to  do  it  with  a  smile. 
And  strange,  and  almost  unholy  and  unnatural  as  it 


28         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

may  seem,  months  later,  when  I  did  see  some  of  the 
Marines  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight  with  the  linns,  they 
were  not  snarling  but  smiling  as  they  jabbed  the  points 
of  their  bayonets  into  the  most  convenient  part  of  their 
opponent's  anatomy.  A  queer  sound  the  bayonet 
makes  when  it  takes  the  flesh,  and  queerer  still  is  the 
feel  of  the  gun  in  your  hand  when  you  have  the  old 
"shiv"  in  a  human  body. 

"Mopping  up"  was  another  delightful  practice  in 
which  we  became  singularly  adept.  It  means,  as  you 
doubtless  know,  cleaning  up  the  positions,  you  have 
taken  from  the  enemy.  It  is  a  bloody  business  in 
which,  you  might  say,  no  prisoners  are  taken. 

The  bayonet  fighting,  the  patrol  wrork,  and  the  mop- 
ping up,  even  more  than  a  gas  attack,  or  shelling,  or 
rifle  fire,  bring  out  to  me  the  sheer  hellishness  of  war. 

There  is  something  impersonal  about  most  of  the 
operations  of  a  military  character,  but  when  you  come 
to  grips ;  when  you  tear  a  man's  body  open  with  the 
bayonet,  cut  his  throat  with  a  trench  knife,  or  strangle 
him  to  death  with  your  hands  down  in  the  mud  of 
"no  man's  land,"  or  the  filth  of  a  trench  bottom,  it 
comes  right  home  to  you. 

And  I  am  frank  to  say,  I  don't  like  it,  though  it  had 
to  be  done,  and  God  knows  nothing  that  could  be  done 
to  a  German  began  to  be  anywhere  near  like  the  treat- 
ment he  deserved. 

But  I  ramble,  and  that  is  not  like  a  Marine. 

In  August,  I  crossed  to  France  and  was  landed  at 
Brest  after  a  beautiful  and  uneventful  trip.  The  Navy 
certainly  made  good  when  it  came  to  taking  us  boys 
across  safely,  and  I  never  see  water  but  I  want  to  give 
three  cheers  for  the  "Gobs." 

After  landing  in  France,  we  went  to  Chatillon  where 
we  got  our  legs  under  us,  looked  over  our  equipment, 
and  then  hurried  up  to  the  front. 

Every  Yank  in  France  that  had  any  fight  left  in 
him  was  headed  for  the  front  at  that  time.  We  had 
the  Jerries  on  the  run  and  the  spirit  of  the  hunt  was 
in  us  all.     We  could  scarcely  sleep  of  nights  for  fear 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  29 

they  would  stop  fighting  before  we  had  our  chance 
at  it. 

Well,  we  got  it ! 

In  the  Argonne  forest  sector,  we  went  into  the 
line  to  relieve  some  National  Army  troops  that  had 
fought  themselves  out  of  food,  clothing,  ammunition, 
and  almost  out  of  touch  with  the  supporting  troops  on 
their  flank.  The  N.  A.  boys  needed  a  few  hours  to 
rest,  refit  and  receive  replacements,  for  they  had  not 
counted  the  cost  of  their  advance. 

The  dead  were  still  unburied,  and  as  we  marched  up 
to  their  front,  we  passed  for  miles  over  the  ground 
across  which  they  had  advanced.  Time  and  time  again, 
I  saw  the  ground  brown  with  their  bodies  as  they  had 
fallen  in  lines,  or  in  clumps,  before  the  fire  of  German 
machine  gun  nests. 

Their  orders  had  been  to  advance  at  no  matter  what 
cost,  and  they  had  kept  the  faith. 

So,  we  came  at  last  into  line. 

The  woods  were  heavy  about  us.  The  ground  was 
incredibly  broken,  as  though  some  angry  god  in  ancient 
times  had  harrowed  the  place  with  hate.  Ravines  ran 
in  all  directions,  and  this  brought  out  a  twisted  rock 
formation  where  ridges  crossed  and  recrossed  each 
other,  and  buttes  rose  without  rhyme  or  reason  in  the 
most  unexpected  places. 

It  was,  of  course,  an  ideal  defensive  position.  I 
can't  see  all  the  Germans  in  the  world  driving  Ma- 
rines out  of  such  a  stronghold.  Yet  out  of  it  our 
American  boys  had  been  chasing  German  veteran  and 
war-wise  soldiery. 

Machine  gun  nests  and  organized  positions  were 
scattered  broadcast  through  the  forest  with  the  prodi- 
gal hand  of  the  German  High  Command.  In  places, 
barb  wire  was  in  position  and  there  were  also  well 
placed  and  carefully  constructed  trenches. 

Our  guns  had  difficulty  in  keeping  up  with  us.  Only 
when  a  command  would  be  definitely  hung  up  for  a 
day  or  so,  would  the  guns  get  a  chance  to  come  up 
and  blow  the  Jerries  out. 


30  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

The  orders  were  to  advance  t<>  a  certain  objective 

which  had  been  pointed  out  to  us.  \\  e  were  told  to 
go  ahead  and  take  it,  if  only  two  of  us  got  there,  and 
when  we  got  there  to  dig  in  and  hang  on  regardless. 

Some  comprehensive  order  I'd  say  it  was. 

We  drove  forward,  bombing  out  the  machine  gun 
nests,  taking  advantage  of  what  cover  offered,  cutting 
and  blasting  our  way  through  the  enemy's  wire. 

As  we  broke  through  the  last  of  the  wire,  the  Huns 
abandoned  their  position  and  fled  to  cover.  It  so  hap- 
pened I  was  nearest  the  crest  of  the  ridge  where  the 
German  line  had  been,  and  I  tore  up  the  slope  at  my 
best  speed,  gun  thrown  forward  eagerly  as  I  tried  to 
get  another  good  clean  shot  at  the  Jerries. 

The  German  guns  were  well  trained  on  the  crest,  and 
just  as  we  swarmed  over  it,  H.  E.  shell  and  shrapnel 
began  to  burst  right  among  us. 

Suddenly  I  spun  around  and  fell.  For  a  moment  or 
two  I  was  dazed.  My  Buddie  grabbed  me  and  dragged 
me  into  a  little  cover,  and  ripped  off  my  blouse  and 
shirt.  My  right  arm  .was  filled  with  shrapnel  and 
shot  to  pieces  from  the  elbow  down.  Buddie  gave 
me  first  aid,  put  my  canteen  handy,  and  then  with  a 
handclasp  hurried  back  to  the  position  where  the  men 
had  stopped  for  a  moment  to  get  their  breath,  after 
the  burst  of  shelling. 

Presently,  as  the  shelling  grew  less,  and  the  enemy 
showed  himself  forming  for  a  counter  attack,  our 
men  sprung  forward,  cheering  as  they  ran  in  that 
high  pitched,  eerie  battle  cry  of  the  Marines  who  have 
seen  their  dead. 

They  had  overrun  a  machine  gun  nest,  and  when  I 
saw  the  gunners  in  the  nest  open  up  on  our  men  from 
the  rear,  it  brought  the  life  back  to  me.  I  began  to 
try  and  get  my  gun  into  some  kind  of  a  position  where 
I  could  shoot,  and  while  I  can  shoot  from  the  left 
shoulder,  it's  some  trick  to  hold  and  fire  a  gun  writh 
one  hand  and  hit  anything. 

However,  I  did  create  a  diversion  with  my  thump- 
ing around,  for  the  German  machine  gunners  gave  me 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 31 

their  attention.  I  got  a  bullet  through  the  left  hand, 
and  another  in  the  leg. 

The  Jerries  certainly  were  great  ones  for  getting  a 
man  in  the  leg. 

I  talked  to  a  Jerry,  who  was  a  prisoner  and  spoke 
English,  about  it. 

"We  don't  like  to  kill  the  troops  opposing  us,"  said 
he,  as  he  tugged  away  at  his  long  stemmed  pipe. 

"Oh,  no,  of  course,"  I  agreed.    "Quite  so." 

He  caught  my  sarcasm  and  went  into  details. 

"Why  should  we  kill  men?"  he  inquired.  "If  a  man 
is  dead,  he  is  dead.  That  is  the  end  of  him.  Maybe 
he  gets  planted,  and  maybe  he  don't.  If  he  does,  its 
after  the  fight  is  over. 

"But  a  wounded  man  must  be  taken  care  of.  He 
uses  up  men  who  could  be  fighting.  The  more 
wounded  the  better.  So  they  teach  us  to  shoot  at  the 
feet  instead  of  the  head  or  body." 

At  any  rate,  there  I  was.  With  my  right  arm  full  of 
shrapnel  and  my  forearm,  from  the  elbow  down,  a 
sight.  My  left  hand  also,  had  a  bullet  through  it  and 
I  had  another  one  in  my  leg.  I  had  lost  a  lot  of  blood. 
It  was  fifty  hours  before  I  had  any  more  attention  than 
my  Buddie  had  been  able  to  give  me  in  the  heat  of  the 
fight.  Then  I  received  real  first  aid  and  was  shipped 
back  something  like  sixty  miles  to  a  hospital,  where  I 
underwent  three  operations,  in  the  last  of  which  they 
took  my  right  arm  off  at  the  elbow. 

After  that  they  sent  me  Home,  and  in  the  Brooklyn 
Naval  Hospital  I  had  a  re-amputation. 

Also  I  received  a  regimental  citation,  though  just 
why  I  do  not  understand. 

I  want  to  say  a  word  for  the  relief  organizations  that 
helped  us  out  "over  there."  This  is  one  of  the  Echoes 
I  want  you  to  be  sure  and  hear. 

Listen !  There  is  nothing  too  good  for  the  Salvation 
Army ! 

The  time  was  when  we  used  to  give  them  our  pen- 
nies. Let  me  tell  you,  your  dollars  aren't  half  big 
enough  for  them.     They  were  like  the  Marines,  they 


32  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

went  the  limit.  Right  up  to  the  front,  the  real  front, 
the  firing  line,  with  coffee  and  doughnuts.  Many  a 
time  we  had  to  beg  those  girls  to  go  back. 

If  you  feel  grateful  to  us,  be  good  to  them,  for  they 
were  with  us  and  were  our  friends  when  we  walked 
in  the  dark  shadows  "over  there." 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  33 

Soldier's  Letter 
CHRISTMAS  DAY  IN  FRANCE 

But  say,  let  me  tell  you  something.  Christmas  Day 
in  France  was  enough  to  break  your  heart. 

The  day  before  Christmas  we  had  marched  out  to 
our  training  field  as  usual.  To  keep  us  from  thinking 
too  much  about  home,  the  officers  put  us  through.  It 
was  twelve  miles  back  to  billets  and  we  started  the  long 
hike.  We  could  not  help  thinking  a  bit  now  and  then, 
so  our  spirits  were  low. 

Rain  and  sleet  fell;  the  roads  were  hock  deep  in 
cold  sticky  mud,  for  each  step  we  took,  we  lost  part 
of  the  ground  gained. 

We  were  chilled,  tired,  hungry,  footsore,  homesick, 
and  all  at  once,  that's  some  grand  little  combination 
for  Christmas  Eve,  I'll  tell  you. 

As  the  night  came  on,  wind  blew  in  long,  sharp  blasts 
that  cut  through  to  the  bone,  chilling  the  perspiration 
the  hike  had  started. 

You  could  have  bought  us  cheap. 

We  hit  the  billets  late,  too  doggone  tired  and  heart 
sick,  we  thought,  to  eat.  But  hot  coffee  and  chow 
lured  us  at  last.  Then  we  just  peeled  off  our  rags, 
and  packs,  and  boots,  dropped  them  all  over  the  place, 
and  hit  the  blankets. 

At  dawn,  some  idiot  began  to  shout,  "Merry 
Christmas." 

"Merry  Hell,"  we  answered  and  tried  for  a  few 
more  winks. 

But  it  was  no  use,  the  comedian  persisted.  We 
reached  for  what  was  nearest.  A  box  barrage  of  tin 
hats,  boots,  canteens,  and  miscellaneous  equipment 
silenced  the  fool. 

Then  another  broke  out  with  it. 

We  decided  we'd  better  end  the  epidemic  right 
there. 

So  we  played  "puss  in  the  corner"  with  that  fellow. 

We  hit  him  a  wallop  in  the  puss  (face)  and  he  laid 
in  the  corner  for  an  hour. 


CORPORAL  M.  J.  LAPIXE 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  35 

IV. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Corporal  Meyer  J.  Lapine 

Bom  in  Chicago,  III.,  Januaryi  7 ,  1892.  Occupation,  chauf- 
feur. Enlisted  in  United  States  Marine  Corps  at  Chicago  on 
May  29,  1917 .  Trained  Paris  Island  and  Quantico,  Virginia. 
Assigned  Sixth  Regiment.  Overseas  January  15,  1918. 
Wounded  three  times  and  gassed. 

On  May  29,  1917,  I  enlisted  in  the  United  States 
Marine  Corps  at  Chicago,  and  was  sent  to  Paris  Island, 
South  Carolina,  for  quarantine  and  preliminary  train- 
ing. 

For  three  months,  I  was  drilled  and  trained  at  Paris 
Island  until  they  had  made  a  man  of  me  physically  and 
mentally.  I  had,  in  the  meantime,  taken  my  second 
oath,  so  when  I  was  passed  on  to  Quantico,  the  over- 
seas camp,  I  was  about  ready  for  foreign  service. 
However,  they  took  a  few  more  licks  at  me  at  Quan- 
tico, and  then  assigned  me  to  the  famous  Sixth  Regi- 
ment, United  States  Marine  Corps. 

Major  Holcomb  took  us  over  the  latter  part  of  Janu- 
ary, this  battalion  completed  the  regimental  organiza- 
tion of  the  Sixth. 

Many  of  the  Marines  who  had  preceded  us,  had 
spent  the  months  in  France  on  police  duty,  but  we  were 
more  fortunate,  for  in  January,  all  the  Marines  were 
relieved  from  police  duty,  brigaded  together,  and  sent 
to  Bourmont  training  area  to  be  whipped  into  shape 
for  our  place  in  the  line. 

For  the  first  time,  we  had  a  chance  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  each  other  and  look  over  our  officers, 
and  a  fine  bunch  of  men  I'd  say  they  were.  Catlin 
was  our  Colonel,  and  I  saw  him  fall,  right  up  with  the 
boys  at  Belleau  Wood. 

Lieutenant  Colonel  Lee  was  second  in  command,  and 


36  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

took  over  under  fire  the  (lav  Colonel  Catlin  was 
wounded.  The  Majors,  too,  were  all  old  hands,  I 
think,  in  the  Marines.  Major  John  A.  Hughes,  Major 
Burton  William  Sibley,  and  the  regimental  adjutant 
Major  Evans,  were  men  who  won  our  devoted  admir- 
ation by  their  soldierly  qualities  and  personal  man- 
hood. 

Nor  were  the  lesser  officers  much  below  them  in 
standard,  though  most  of  them  did  not  really  belong 
to  the  Corps,  but  had  been  sent  to  it  to  take  the  places 
vacated  by  the  moving  up  of  the  old  company  and 
platoon  commanders  when  the  organization  was  ex- 
panded. 

Of  things  such  as  this,  we  men  talked  in  bivouack 
and  billet,  gathering  our  information  as  to  the  past 
history  of  the  Corps  and  the  exploits  of  its  officers 
from  the  lips  of  our  "noncoms,"  many  of  whom  had 
been  in  the  Marines  from  "ten  to  twenty  years. 

In  the  days  of  our  training,  when  we  tramped  back 
and  forth  from  billets  to  training  grounds,  we  of  the 
ranks  got  to  know  each  other  well  and  we  knew  just 
about  what  to  expect  of  chaps  like  Chris  Collopy,  who 
came  from  Spring  City,  Pennsylvania,  or  Weikal  of 
Middletown,  Ohio,  before  ever  we  saw  them  put  to  the 
test  of  battle. 

During  March,  we  went  on  the  line  in  the  Verdun 
sector.  So  far  as  my  outfit  were  concerned,  we  had 
our  first  taste  of  German  shell  on  Easter  morning. 
Some  eggs,  believe  me,  those  Jerries  put  over  to  make 
us  feel  like  good  Christians  on  that  day. 

YYe  had  taken  over  a  quiet  sector,  but  it  certainly  did 
yield  us  some  good  sport.    The  patrol  work  was  great. 

Don't  misunderstand  me.  I  was  scared  to  death 
every  time  I  went  out  on  patrol.  The  cold  sweat  would 
pour  off  me  and  my  whole  body  would  shake  with 
chills,  but  I'd  have  died  before  I'd  let  any  one  of  my 
pals  know  it.  I  guess  we  all  had  the  chills,  and  fever, 
and  sweats  together,  for  we  weren't  just  pigs  driven 
to  slaughter  and  used  to  it  like  the  Hun,  but  nervous, 
high  strung  young  lads,  with  all  of  life  before  us.     Yet 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 37 

we'd  rather  have  been  in  France  just  then,  than  any- 
where else  in  the  world. 

But  once  you  were  out  in  "no  man's  land,"  creep- 
ing around  in  the  dark,  trying  to  keep  in  touch  with 
the  rest  of  your  own  men  and  not  fall  over  a  Hun 
before  you  saw  him,  sneaking  through  the  enemy  wire 
to  listen  up  against  his  parapet,  you  were  sitting  in  on 
a  man's  game  where  the  sky  was  the  limit. 

The  oddest  things  would  come  into  your  head. 
Some  thing  funny  that  had  happened  when  you  were 
a  boy  at  school,  or  some  remark  made  by  Hi  Pottinger 
would  come  to  mind,  and  you'd  see  it  from  a  new  angle 
and  want  to  laugh,  when  you  didn't  hardly  dare  to 
breathe. 

And  when  we  did  catch  an  enemy  patrol  out !  Oh, 
boy !  How  we  flattened  out  on  the  ground,  and  prac- 
ticed every  Injun  and  hunting  trick  we'd  ever  heard  of, 
as  we  stalked  the  foe.  For  on  patrol  work,  it's  a  case 
of  get  your  man  and  get  him  quick  and  quiet,  or 
they'll  have  the  sky  full  of  star  shell,  and  both  sides 
be  cutting  loose  at  you 

We  sure  were  in  tune  with  the  warring  infinite, 
when  they  relieved  us  at  last,  I  guess  because  we  were 
making  their  quiet  sector  too  lively. 

I  understand  some  of  the  other  boys  have  written 
in  their  stories  for  "Echoes  from  Over  There,"  of  the 
fighting  along  the  Marne  and  at  Belleau  Wood,  and  I'm 
going  to  skip  it,  for  even  to  this  day,  it  hurts  to  think 
of  the  friends  who  "went  west"  during  the  fighting 
there. 

After  the  Chateau-Thierry  sector  fighting  just  re- 
ferred to,  the  Marines  were  pulled  out  of  the  line  for 
some  much  needed  rest  and  re-equipment,  for  fighting 
uses  up  clothing,  weapons,  food,  everything  goes  in  the 
fight. 

La  Fere  was  the  name  of  the  place  where  we  counted 
noses  and  took  stock,  but  the  days  of  resting  were 
about  over.  We  had  turned  the  tide  at  Belleau  Wood, 
and  it  was  up  to  us  to  push  our  luck. 

The  French  were  going  to  try  and  crash  in  the  side 


38 ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

of  the  bottle  the  German  had  made  in  the  French  lines 
between  two  towns  every  one  has  heard  of,  Soissons 
and  Rheims.  A  bottle  just  described  the  situation, 
an  old  fashioned  water  bottle  turned  upside  down. 
At  cither  side  of  the  bell  shaped  bottom  of  the  water 
bottle,  were  Soissons  and  Rheims,  while  the  mouth 
rested  on  Chateau-Thierry.  And  the  bottle  was  full, 
full  to  the  brim  with  German  troops,  guns,  stores, 
I  don't  guess  they  have  counted  it  all  yet. 

The  French  wanted  to  smash  in  the  side  of  the  bottle 
and  get  at  the  contents,  and  they  gave  the  Marines  the 
hammer.  To  make  sure  that  we  would  be  feeling  like 
fighting  when  we  struck  the  German  lines,  they  packed 
us  into  camions,  and  we  bumped  along  in  the  dust  and 
July  heat  all  one  night,  and  at  dawn  started  to  hike  and 
kept  it  up  all  that  day  and  all  the  following  night.  At 
dawn  we  came  into  position  and  the  fight  began. 

There  will  be  some  who  will  think  I  exaggerate, 
who  will  say  no  troops  could  fight  as  we  fought  after 
being  awake  for  two  days  and  nights  and  making  such 
a  march,  but  if  such  doubters  there  be,  let  them  write 
the  War  Department  and  ask  about  this  incident  of 
the  history  of  the  Sixth  Marines  in  France. 

It  was  a  great  surprise  that  attack.  The  Hun  was 
completely  fooled  when,  on  the  heels  of  a  terrific  bar- 
rage, and  in  the  wake  of  droves  of  tanks,  the  Marines 
broke  out  of  the  forest  of  Villers-Cotterets. 

We  had  no  sooner  started,  than  we  forgot  all  about 
being  tired,  for  we  had  the  Hun  on  the  jump.  We 
piled  his  dead  in  heaps ;  we  took  his  machine  guns  by 
the  hundreds,  and  his  field  batteries  complete,  time  and 
again.  We  just  had  to  take  prisoners  that  day ;  it 
would  have  taken  too  long  to  kill  them  all. 

We  fought  through  wilderness  thickets ;  we  stormed 
hills,  and  with  dripping  bayonets,  slashed  our  wav 
through  villages  the  Hun  had  not  yet  destroyed,  and 
was  busily  engaged  in  looting.  We  shot  German  sol- 
diers gathering  the  grain  in  the  fields. 

Mile  after  mile  we  drove  them,  and  though  we 
made  rapid  progress,  there   was   stark  fighting  done 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  39 

by  the  Germans  that  day.  Time  after  time,  I  saw 
a  squad  of  our  men  go  at  the  burst  of  a  shell,  or  a 
platoon  wither  under  machine  gun  blast. 

I  got  it  in  the  leg  myself,  bad  enough  to  send  me 
back  to  a  dressing  station,  but  not  to  a  hospital.  I  had 
all  the  hospital  I  wanted  after  I  had  been  hit  and 
gassed  early  in  the  spring,  and  when  our  men  were 
going  in  at  Belleau  Wood,  we  had  to  take  French 
leave  at  the  hospital  to  get  back  to  our  regiment  or 
we'd  have  missed  that  dandy  brawl. 

After  we  had  cleaned  them  up  at  Soissons,  they 
pulled  us  out,  and  we  had  a  few  days  of  the  rest  that 
was  coming  to  us,  and  then  we  went  to  the  Argonne. 
There  I  got  phosgene  chlorine  gas  and  got  it  good,  and 
by  the  time  I  had  recovered  from  that,  it  was  all  over, 
over  there. 


40  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

V. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT. 
THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 
Private  Winslow  Belton  Marshall 

Enlisted  in  United  States  Marine  Corps.    Served  in  France. 

Patriotism,  to  some  people,  meant  throwing  out  their 
chests  when  the  band  played  the  "Star  Spangled  Ban- 
ner," and  openly  admitting  that  "the  land  of  the  free 
and  the  home  of  the  brave"  could  lick  anybody  on  the 
block. 

To  me,  it  didn't  mean  so  much.  I  just  grabbed  a 
gun  and  went  over  there  to  express  my  sentiments  in 
bullets. 

Those  flag-waving  experts  may  be  all  right.  They 
probably  figured  that  as  it  was,  the  recruiting  offices 
were  overworked,  so  what  was  the  use  of  giving  them 
more  trouble? 

When  it  comes  down  to  scrapping,  believe  me,  three 
of  those  dear  three-inch  shell  have  three  cheers  beat 
eighty  ways. 

Still,  somebody  had  to  stay  at  home,  or  there 
wouldn't  be  anyone  to  watch  the  parades,  now  that 
we've  got  back  from  saving  Democracy. 

Well,  just  after  we  quit  speaking  to  Germany,  I 
enlisted  in  the  Marines.  I  spent  my  nights  studying 
how  to  tell  a  third  class  Ensign  from  an  assistant  sten- 
ographer in  the  Knights  of  Columbus,  and  my  days 
were  spent  saluting  every  door  man  from  Forty-second 
street  to  Columbus  Circle.  At  first,  an  ordinary  sub- 
way guard  looked  like  an  Admiral  to  me. 

I  suppose  you  know  what  a  Leatherneck  is?  A 
Leatherneck  is  a  baby  they  send  for  when  some  country 
gets  fresh  and  tries  to  go  Republican. 

We  are  rushed  special  delivery  to  the  place  to  put 
down  the  revolution.  There  never  is  any  trouble.  The 
revolutionists  are  buried  in  lots  of  a  thousand  each. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  41 

Once  a  Marine  got  wounded.  He  stumbled  over  the 
Porto  Bananas  army  on  the  way  back  to  the  ship. 

No  doubt  by  this  time,  you  know  how  the  Leather- 
necks went  through  those  square  heads  at  Belleau 
Wood  and  points  west ;  and  we  would  have  gone 
through  to  Berlin,  only  we  didn't  want  to  be  all  muddy 
marching  down  "Unter  der  Linden"  with  all  the  fel- 
lows looking  on. 

The  Kaiser  likes  the  Marines  like  carbolic  acid, 
and  the  Crown  Quince  has  been  yelling  for  the  police 
ever  since  we  went  over. 

I  always  wondered  why  they  called  us  Leathernecks. 
I  found  out  it  was  on  account  of  us  wearing  some  of 
the  sweaters  our  loving,  but  amateur,  knitting  relatives 
sent  us  instead  of  cigarettes.  Some  of  those  sweaters 
would  make  any  fellow's  neck  rough. 

Going  across,  we  were  prepared  for  everything  from 
sudden  death  to  losing  a  button. 

The  meals  were  the  best  part  of  the  trip.  I  had  six 
meals  a  day,  three  down  and  three  up.  The  boat 
rocked  so  much  that  I  had  to  sit  on  the  floor  when 
eating.  I  asked  the  Doctor  what  was  the  cure  for  sea 
sickness,  and  he  said,  "I  give  up." 

While  still  on  the  ship,  I  joined  the  Moustache  Club 
and  the  Gimme  Association. 

We  landed  in  France  on  my  birthday  and  were  sent 
to  a  training  camp.  While  on  the  train,  we  passed 
some  pretty  scenery  but  that's  all  we  did  pass. 

When  I  enlisted  in  the  Marines,  the  pictures  in  my 
mind  were  drawn  from  the  colored  posters  in  front 
of  the  recruiting  offices.  I  was  to  see  life  from  the 
deck  of  a  noble  battleship  and  the  heaviest  work  would 
be  drilling  at  a  five-inch  gun,  and  smashing  a  target  to 
smithereens  across  the  sea. 

But  instead,  they  put  me  to  work  operating  an  in- 
sane apology  for  a  railroad,  and  pushing  freight  cars 
all  around  a  town  fifty  miles  from  a  sniff  of  salt 
water.  I  often  wondered  what  my  mother  thought 
when  I  wrote  her  about  this.  "Drunk  again,"  most 
likely.    Well  the  Navy  went  us  one  better.    The  Cap- 


42         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 


tain  mounted  forty  blue-jackets  on  mules  and  called 
them  his  cavalry. 

Under  the  able  and  masterly  leadership  of  our  mess 
sergeant,  we  got  food  in  disguise.  The  cooks  must 
have  attended  the  Camouflage  school  unbeknown  to 
us.    The  occasional  biscuits  were  further  proof  of  this. 

The  sick  report  went  merrily  in  on  the  wings  of  the 
dawn.  I  guess  the  cooks  thought  the  medical  depart- 
ment needed  practice. 

In  a  small  space  in  the  mess  shack,  they  had  worked 
wonders.  They  put  in  an  enormous  stock  of  soldier 
necessities ;  everything  from  carpet  tacks  to  baby  ele- 
phants. You  could  get  cigarettes,  cigars,  chewing  gum, 
and  candy;  all  the  latest  magazines,  wall  paper,  fly- 
paper, ukeleles,  bassoons,  and  kettle  drums;  shampoos 
and  massage.  Also,  ladies'  and  gents'  clothing,  art, 
needle  work,  and  sporting  goods ;  umbrellas,  rubbers, 
silks  and  bull  dogs.  But  the  main  thing,  you  could  get 
something  to  eat.  The  way  our  mess  sergeant  dished 
up  the  food,  he  must  have  been  a  pal  of  Mr.  Hoover. 
However,   we  didn't  starve. 

Finally,  we  took  our  seventy-two  hour  dip  in  the 
trenches.  Now  that  the  war  is  over,  I  will  never  re- 
main in  the  military  game,  largely  on  account  of  con- 
siderations that  deter  me  from  becoming  an  actor,  it 
cuts  into  your  evenings  so.  However,  after  you  get 
used  to  staying  up  a  night  or  two  at  a  time,  snatching 
a  little  siesta  between  times,  it  certainly  is  an  interest- 
ing game. 

The  first  two  or  three  days  in  the  trenches,  Jerry 
was  quite  amusing,  and  indulged  in  a  lot  of  perfectly 
blind  shooting,  with  5.9  (five  point  nines)  either  to  bol- 
ster up  his  own  courage,  or  in  the  vague  hope  of  hitting 
something.  As  we  were  green  and  unaccustomed  to 
shell  fire,  we  were  continually  jumping  in  and  out  of 
shell  holes,  when  we  first  heard  the  whine  coming, 
and  in  every  case,  at  least  so  far  as  I  was  concerned, 
the  shell  hit  many  yards  away.  Soon  we  became  veter- 
ans and  could  tell  from  the  sound  of  the  shell,  whether 
to  duck  or  ignore  them.     It  is  astonishing  how  quickly 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 43 

your  ear  gets  trained.  Soon  there  was  very  little  duck- 
ing. 

We  had  a  lot  of  healthy  curiosity  about  Jerry's 
whereabouts  and  habits,  and  wre  sure  had  a  chance 
to  gratify  it  and  put  it  to  use  during  frequent  patrols. 

Before  we  got  through,  we  saw  quite  a  bit  of  action. 
We  have  hurled  bombs  that  flew  back  at  us  so  fast  that 
we  received  the  impression  we  had  thrown  them  back- 
ward. We  have  vibrated  at  the  safe  end  of  a  rifle,  and 
we  have  speared  Huns  on  a  bayonet  run  that  would 
have  discouraged  the  Ringling  Brothers. 

Of  course  you've  heard  about  gas.  Well,  we've  been 
gassed.  We,  too,  had  heard  all  about  it.  Incidentally, 
you  folks  have  no  idea  what  the  word  discomfort 
means  till  you  try  on  a  gas  mask  or  respirator.  A  gas 
mask  is  the  most  unholy  punishment  that  can  be  meted 
out  to  anyone.  Did  you  ever  try  swallowing  a  hot 
water  bottle  ? 

Our  Captain  told  us  to  stay  as  long  as  we  could. 
Talk  about  speed.  You've  read  of  Joe  Loomis  winning 
the  hundred  yards,  Dario  Resta  driving  his  motor  car, 
and  Guynemer,  battleplaning  through  the  air.  Wrong, 
all  wrong.  The  pace  I  hit  when  I  took  off  my  gas 
mask,  would  have  made  Loomis,  Resta,  and  Guynemer, 
tear  their  hair  in  pure  chagrin.  Nothing  like  it  has 
been  seen  since  soldiers  began  wearing  hats.  With  all 
due  modesty,  I  claim  I  emerged  from  that  door  at  a 
speed  of  fifty  miles  an  hour.     Rough  stuff,  that  gas. 

In  peace  times,  if  anyone  had  told  me  I  would  ever 
be  sitting  in  a  damp  German  dugout,  in  the  wee  sma' 
hours  of  a  chilly  morning,  playing  piquet,  while  about 
me  raged  a  terrific  bombardment,  I  would  have  called 
him  crazy. 

Believe  me,  we  all  were  sure  glad  when  peace  was 
declared. 

We  fished  out  our  little  rubber  suits  and  sailed  for 
home.  We  had  a  peace  party  on  board  ship  that  the 
fellows  are  still  talking  about.  And  you  know  that 
to  get  anything  to  stick  in  a  fellow's  bean  for  more 
than  an  hour,  is  an  accomplishment  in  itself.    We  had 


1  1  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

some  canned  music,  the  old  phony  was  on  duty  from 
the  start,  grinding  out  ragtime,  and  everybody  jazzed. 

Shades  of  Napoleon,  was  ever  before  a  picnic  known 
to  thrive  on  Bevo  and  make  merry  over  a  bumper 
of  root  beer?  Gee,  I  never  knew  we  could  have  such 
a  good  time  and  stay  sober. 

Well,  there's  no  place  like  home. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  45 

VI. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Private  Frank  M.  Jacobs 

Bom  in  New  York  City.  Enlisted  in  the  U.  S.  Marine 
Corps.  Fought  at  Belleau  Wood.  Was  wounded  near  Sois- 
sons.    Received  the  Croix  de  Guerre. 

His  Own  Story 

We  arrived  in  St.  Nazaire,  June  27th,  and  spent  two 
months  near  the  Swiss  border.  Our  training  consisted 
of  endless  days  of  long,  muddy,  dreary  hikes,  and  bayo- 
net exercise  that,  though  not  a  pleasure,  put  us  in 
great  condition,  enabling  us  to  withstand  the  hardships 
of   the  trenches. 

'  After  leaving  the  training  area,  we  were  sent  for 
preliminary  training  to  the  front  line  trenches  of  the 
Verdun  sector.  Although  the  enemy  was  in  action  in 
front  of  us,  for  a  month  and  a  half,  nothing  of  any 
importance  occurred,  outside  of  constant  shell  fire.  It 
seemed  that  in  that  particular  sector,  the  Boches  were 
in  training  in  the  trenches  directly  opposite.  It  was  a 
case  of  "You  let  me  alone,  and  I'll  let  you  alone."  The 
French  apparently  had  adopted  this  agreement. 

However,  we  had  a  little  combatting,  not  with  any 
human  enemy,  but  with  the  rats  that  gave  us  an  aw- 
ful lot  of  trouble.  Our  delight  was  to  watch  for 
them  to  come  out  of  their  holes  and  then  shoot  them 
with  our  automatics.  The  cooties  were  right  on  the 
job,  too.  Then  it  rained  nearly  every  day  till  some- 
times the  mud  in  the  trenches  was  a  foot  and  a  half 
deep.  But  we  got  used  to  even  that  after  a  while  and 
the  fellows  seemed  to  make  a  joke  of  it  as  they  did  of 
all  their  discomfort. 

We  were  actually  half  contented  there,  when  the 
first  of  May,  word  reached  us  that  a  series  of  offensives 


46  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

were  being  carried  out  by  the  Germans.  The  news 
that  we  were  going  into  actual  combat  was  welcome. 

On  the  18th  of  May,  a  French  battalion  that  had 
seen  some  terriffic  fighting  on  the  Somme  front  relieved 
us.  They  took  our  places  so  that  we  could  take  over 
the  sector  where  fresh  troops  were  needed. 

Leaving  the  Verdun  sector,  we  had  a  two-day  hike 
with  very  little  to  eat.  When  we  reached  the  outskirts 
of  Paris,  we  were  given  another  two  weeks  of  hard 
drilling  and  bayonet  work.  By  this  time,  we  were 
becoming  very  expert  at  handling  the  gun  and  bayonet 
and  this  added  to  our  eagerness  to  meet  the  enemy. 

In  the  little  town  where  we  were  quartered,  we  were 
apparently  the  entire  population.  Billeted  in  this  vill- 
age a  long  ways  from  the  front,  we  began  to  fear  we 
would  never  see  any  real  action.  To  our  delight,  one 
night  after  taps  had  blown  and  we  were  sleeping  peace- 
fully, orders  came  that  we  were  to  pack  up  and  be 
ready   to   leave   within   a   half    an   hour. 

Exactly  thirty  minutes  later  we  were  on  our  way  to 
a  train  of  camions  that  awaited  us.  We  were  simply 
piled  into  these  camions,  driven  by  Chinks.  For  two 
days  and  three  nights  we  rode. 

We  were  joyous  to  be  on  our  way  to  the  front,  but 
the  steady  stream  of  French  refugees  we  passed  sad- 
dened us.  Of  all  the  pathetic  scenes  I  ever  witnessed, 
the  scenes  I  saw  on  this  trip  to  the  front  were  the  most 
pitiful.  We  were  maddened  by  the  sight  of  these  old 
men,  women  and  children,  hurrying  to  the  rear  with 
whatever  household  goods  they  could  scrape  together 
and  pack  into  their  carts,  pulled  by  oxen.  Our  hearts 
ached  for  these  gentle  old  French  folk,  driven  from 
their  homes  by  the  Boche.  Hatred  for  the  Hun  in- 
creased with  every  mile,  till  we  could  hardly  wait  for 
a  chance  to  strike  our  blow  at  him. 

During  these  two  days  and  three  nights,  we  actu- 
ally had  no  food  or  water  as  our  orders  to  depart 
for  the  front  had  come  so  unexpectedly.  But  before 
the  actual  proofs  of  the  Huns'  inhumanity  and  b'utal- 
ity  we  forgot  our  aching  stomachs  and  parched  throats. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 47 

On  the  1st  of  June,  we  arrived  at  the  front  and 
camped  three  days  in  dugouts  built  under  cover  of  the 
darkness.  Then  to  our  great  excitement,  we  were  or- 
dered to  march  four  kilometers  to  relieve  the  French 
forces  that  were  so  bravely  holding  their  own  against 
the  terrific  German  onslaught.  The  Frenchmen,  hav- 
ing fought  several  days  and  nights  without  a  let  up, 
were  sure  happy  to  see  us,  while  we  were  glad  of  the 
opportunity  to  take  their  place. 

For  two  days  we  were  on  the  defensive,  resisting 
heavy  artillery  and  machine  gun  fire  from  the  enemy. 

At  five  o'clock,  on  the  fifth  of  June,  without  any 
forewarning,  we  were  ordered  to  go  over  the  top  in  five 
minutes.  Our  starting  point  was  five  hundred  yards 
in  front  of  Belleau  Wood.  Jumping  from  our  holes, 
we  snapped  into  skirmish  formation.  The  Germans 
at  sight  of  us  opened  up  deadly  machine  gun  fire.  The 
rattling  of  their  guns  could  not  stop  us,  though  we 
lost  many  men  at  the  start.  Crossing  the  wheat  fields 
we  lost  more  than  half  of  our  men.  Far  from  discour- 
aging us,  this  merely  added  fury  to  our  eagerness  to 
repay  the  Hun.  The  Germans  were  obviously  non- 
plussed by  our  daring  spirit  and  the  way  we  faced 
their  fire.  It  seemed  to  shatter  their  morale.  They 
began  to  flee.  But  we  could  run  as  fast  as  they,  so 
within  four  hours,  we  had  killed  and  captured  about 
five  hundred  Boche  in  the  first  two  kilometer  advance. 

With  darkness  came  a  lull,  giving  us  a  chance  to  dig 
ourselves  in  for  the  night,  though  there  was  sniping 
and  some  artillery  fire  constantly.  A  clean-cut  victory 
for  our  first  attempt  heartened  us  greatly.  We  had  no 
more  fear  of  the  terrible  Hun,  already  we  knew  him 
for  a  coward.  Even  during  our  first  attack,  the  whin- 
ing of  that  word,  "Kamerad,"  became  so  common  that 
we  felt  like  veterans.  In  most  cases,  these  pitiful 
pleas  to  be  spared  were  of  no  avail,  for  we  had  been 
warned  that  while  moaning  "Kamerad,"  the  Boche 
would  not  hesitate  to  attack  us  if  he  could.  So  we 
were  very  watchful  that  they  shouldn't  get  away  with 
any   tricky   stuff. 


48 ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

As  I,  fortunately,  was  not  wounded  in  the  first  at- 
tack, I  did  not  know  of  the  happenings  in  the  rear.  But 
what  we  heard  later  was  very  gratifying.  They  say 
when  they  heard  of  our  victory,  the  French  went  wild 
with  joy,  for  this  was  the  first  time  the  Germans  had 
been  driven  back  on  the  direct  road  to  Paris.  We  were 
mighty  proud  to  have  the  honor  of  being  the  first 
troops  to  start  the  offensive.  It  looks  as  if  that  marked 
the  turning  point  of  the  war. 

After  another  sleepless  night  and  day,  we  were  sent 
five  kilometers  to  the  rear.  Here  we  had  our  first 
real  meal  in  more  than  a  week,  and  believe  me,  we 
certainly  appreciated  it.  While  resting  the  next  two 
days,  we  learned  the  Battalion  that  had  relieved  us 
had  taken  up  the  attack  successfully  where  we  had  left 
it,  and  had  gained  their  objective.  We  knew  then,  that 
there  was  no  possible  chance  for  the  Hun  to  advance 
again. 

After  our  two  days'  rest,  we  were  again  sent  to  the 
front,  this  time  in  a  line  of  trenches  before  the  town 
of  Bouresches,  which  had  been  taken  from  the  Boche 
a  week  before.  During  our  five  days'  stay  in  Boures- 
ches we  were  peppered  with  more  shell  fire  than  I 
had  heard  during  my  entire  experience  at  the  front. 
The  Germans  seemed  to  take  special  delight  in  destroy- 
ing houses  in  the  village,  burning  them  up,  one  by 
one,  but  they  could  not  drive  us  out. 

After  shelling  us  terrifically  for  several  days,  think- 
ing that  we  must  have  evacuated,  the  Boche  attacked 
the  town  one  night  and  discovered  to  their  great  sur- 
prise that  we  were  still  very  much  there.  We  handed 
them  one  of  the  biggest  surprises  and  set-backs  of  their 
lives.  We  peppered  them  so  hard  with  machine  gun 
fire  that  they  never  got  anywhere  near  us.  Instead 
of  finishing  their  attack,  they  turned  and  fled  like  a  lot 
of  crazy  sheep.  While  they  were  retreating,  we  joy- 
fully picked  them  off  and  they  sure  were  soft  pickings. 

We  had  several  scare  attacks  during  our  five  days 
in  this  town.  But  the  Huns,  seeing  we  intended  to 
stay,  began  to  lose  heart.     It  was  a  common  sight  to 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  49 

see  them,  under  cover  of  darkness,  straggling  into  the 
American  lines,  giving  themselves  up. 

So  far,  I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  come  through 
unscratched.  I  saw  many  of  our  old  men  go  and  new 
ones  take  their  places.  For  each  fine  fellow  we  lost, 
we  made  the  Boche  pay  toll,  I  promise  you.  The  very 
thought  of  bayoneting  a  Hun  became  a  pleasure,  and 
to  a  great  extent  we  forgot  our  hardships. 

Relieved  again,  we  went  back  for  a  three  days'  rest 
and  were  then  sent  to  another  sector  to  relieve  troops 
that  had  there  been  successful  in  their  attacks. 

We  held  the  lines  a  few  days,  living  in  the  woods 
under  horrible  conditions,  with  unburied  dead  lying 
all  about  us.  We  lived  in  holes  dug  with  our  hands 
or  any  implements  we  could  find.  The  nights  were 
very  quiet,  but  whenever  we  had  a  chance  to  get  a  little 
sleep,  those  dreaded  cooties,  nearly  as  vicious  as  the 
Boche,  pestered  us  till  sleep  was  almost  impossible. 

Strange  to  say,  while  in  the  line  on  the  defensive, 
or  while  making  ready  to  attack,  war  was  seldom  dis- 
cussed among  the  fellows.  Instead  we  are  thinking  of 
the  dear  old  U.  S.  A.  and  the  folks  at  home.  An 
American  newspaper  whenever  picked  up,  would  be 
read  so  eagerly  that  by  the  time  it  had  passed  through 
several  hundred  hands,  it  would  literally  hang  in 
threads.  These  trying  periods  of  waiting  were  when 
we  most  delighted  in  getting  news  from  home,  or  even 
just  talking  to  each  other  of  what  was  going  on,  back 
in  the  States.  With  the  Boche  twenty-five  yards  away, 
the  boys  would  go  about  humming  popular  songs. 

On  the  25th  of  June,  we  were  ordered  to  attack 
our  objective,  which  was  on  the  edge  of  Belleau  Wood, 
east  of  the  position  still  held  by  the  enemy.  In  the 
face  of  murderous  machine  gun  fire  we  advanced  with- 
out a  stop.  The  Germans  could  not  understand  our 
earnestness  and  willingness  to  face  anything  they  had. 

When  within  a  few  yards  of  them,  about  to  face 
them  with  a  bayonet,  we  had  a  way  of  yelling  like  a 
bunch  of  wild  Indians  that  scared  the  Boche  half  to 
death.    They  would  become  so  perplexed  that  often  we 


50  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

found  them  waiting  for  us  with  their  hands  up  whin- 
ing, "Kamerad."  We  shot  down  the  majority,  for  we 
knew  if  we  gave  them  a  chance  they  would  pump  us 
full  of  machine  gun  bullets.  When  we  came  close  to 
them,  they  would  jump  out  of  their  holes  and  attempt 
to  be  friendly.  We  took  a  few  prisoners  for  the  pur- 
pose of  getting  information  from  them. 

In  this  attack,  a  clump  of  woods  on  our  left  had 
been  overlooked  by  us.  It  was  full  of  Huns,  manning 
machine  guns.  As  they  were  on  our  left  flank,  they 
were  a  terrible  menace  to  us.  In  gaining  our  objec- 
tive, we  lost  pretty  heavily,  and  most  of  the  men  who 
were  fortunate  enough  to  escape  alive  were  wounded, 
or  utterly  exhausted,  and  nearly  dead  from  hunger  and 
thirst. 

A  volunteer  party  was  asked  to  clear  out  the  woods. 
Death  seemed  certain  for  those  attempting  this  deed, 
but  despite  that  fact  and  all  they  had  already  suffered, 
there  were  more  volunteers  than  were  needed,  ready 
and  glad  to  make  the  supreme  sacrifice  to  make  our 
left  flank  safe. 

I  was  fortunate  to  be  numbered  among  the  twelve 
who  attempted  the  clearing  of  the  wood.  We  carried 
out  the  orders  successfully,  but  we  lost  seven  out  of 
twelve  men.  But  we  realized  we  could  not  complain, 
for  ordinarily,  in  an  attack  of  this  kind,  a  platoon 
would  have  been  necessary  to  accomplish  what  we  did. 

The  French  gratefully  rewarded  the  boys  who  vol- 
unteered with  the  Croix  de  Guerre. 

In  that  attack,  we  had  captured  upward  of  six  hun- 
dred men  and  numbers  of  machine  guns.  When  dark- 
ness had  come  and  the  firing  ceased,  a  few  men 
were  detached  to  accompany  the  prisoners  to  the  rear. 
I  was  put  in  charge  of  two  hundred  prisoners,  some 
of  our  wounded,  and  some  German  wounded. 

We  had  almost  a  two  mile  stretch  through  the  woods 
in  total  darkness.  While  marching,  we  were  continu- 
ally shelled  by  the  Hun  artillery  who  thought  we  were 
support  coming  up.  The  prisoners  on  the  way  to  the 
rear  had  more  than  one  chance  to  escape  if  they  had 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 51 

wished  to,  for  the  shelling  we  received  was  so  terrific 
that  the  men  carrying  the  wounded  had  to  seek  shelter 
in  holes  and  behind  trees.  We  could  not  have  pre- 
vented the  prisoners  from  scattering,  the  woods  were 
so  dark,  but  instead  of  attempting  escape,  they  volun- 
tarily jumped  into  formation  again  as  soon  as  the  firing 
ceased,  and  continued  to  march  to  the  rear.  All  the 
time  they  were  praying  in  German,  thanking  God 
that  they  were  through  with  the  war. 

Finally,  we  arrived  at  the  rear  with  our  charges 
and  were  greatly  relieved  to  get  rid  of  them.  Also, 
we  had  our  first  few  hours'  sleep  in  three  or  four  days. 
When  we  started  back  again,  we  were  given  food  to 
take  to  the  men  in  the  front  lines.  To  carry  anything 
seemed  a  great  effort  after  the  strenuous  work  of  the 
last  few  days.  We  were  utterly  worn  out,  and  I  do 
not  believe  we  would  ever  have  reached  the  lines  had 
it  not  been  food  we  were  carrying.  But  we  braced 
up  and  went  through,  for  we  knew  how  desperately 
the  boys  needed  that  food.  On  the  way,  we  were 
steadily  shelled  by  the  enemy,  several  times  we  had  to 
drop  the  food  in  the  dirty  sand  and  lie  prone  on  the 
ground  till  the  shelling  had  ceased.  By  a  fairly  super- 
human effort,  we  reached  the  lines  and  then  what  we 
brought  lasted  only  a  few  minutes  after  it  had  been 
equally  distributed  among  the  boys.  It  was  the  first 
bit  of  food  they  had  had  in  two  days. 

Searching  the  German  dugouts,  we  found  quite  a 
quantity  of  food  the  Germans  had  been  unable  to  take 
away  with  them.  Evidently  the  men  we  had  driven 
out  had  been  placed  there  only  a  few  hours  before  we 
attacked  and  had  been  supplied  with  several  days' 
rations.  The  brown  bread  and  sour  meat  tasted  mighty 
good  to  us.  In  several  instances  the  men  emptied  the 
water  out  of  machine  guns  to  drink. 

We  held  our  ground  until  the  following  night,  when 
we  were  relieved  by  new  troops  and  very  thankful 
we  were  to  see  them. 

We  marched  to  a  safe  distance  in  the  rear,  built  our 
own  dugouts  and  settled  down  for  several  days.    There 


52         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

we  received  our  three  meals  a  day,  praise  be,  and  an 
abundance  of  fruit,  chocolate  and  cigars  that  the  Red 
Cross  provided.    We  sure  were  a  happy  crowd. 

About  the  first  of  July,  we  were  honored  by  a  visit 
from  the  former  Premier  of  France,  who  told  us  that 
the  name  of  the  woods  we  had  captured  had  been 
changed  from  Bois  de  Belleau  to  Bois  de  la  Brigade  de 
Marine,  in  our  honor. 

We  were  also  honored  by  a  visit  from  our  Brigade 
Commander,  who  commended  us  for  our  good  work. 

July  1st  we  were  ordered  to  Paris  to  march  in  the 
parade  on  the  fourth.  Of  course,  we  were  silly  with 
delight. 

We  reached  Paris  on  the  Fourth  and  marched  in  the 
parade  through  the  streets.  The  French  people  show- 
ered us  with  congratulations,  they  seemed  wild  with 
joy  and  called  us  "Saviors  of  Paris." 

After  the  parade  the  town  was  completely  ours. 

Wonderful  while  it  lasted !  But  the  following  day 
we  were  told  to  stand  ready  to  return .  to  the  front. 
We  were  pretty  blue.  To  go  back  to  the  trenches  from 
a  city  like  Paris  seemed  about  the  worst  thing  that 
could  happen  to  us.  We  were  downhearted  but  we 
went  back,  to  finish  our  job. 

When  we  arrived,  we  played  a  defensive  game  a  few 
days  and  then  were  again  sent  to  the  rear  in  a  little 
town  on  the  Marne  to  rest  for  ten  days.  The  town 
in  which  we  were  billeted  had  been  evacuated  by  the 
French  and  their  homes  were  plentifully  supplied  with 
vegetables  and  good  things  to  eat. 

When  the  ten  days  were  up,  we  were  loaded  into 
camions  and  rode  for  a  day  and  a  night  toward  Sois- 
sons. 

Up  to  this  time,  impossible  as  it  seems,  I  had  escaped 
the  slightest  injury  and  was  congratulating  myself 
on  my  luck. 

The  night  of  the  19th,  a  high  explosive  shell  hit 
within  two  feet  of  me,  and  put  me  out  of  business.  I 
hated  to  leave  the  field,  now  that  the  going  was  easy, 
but  I  had  to  give  in.     Remembering  all  I  had  gone 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  53 

through,  I  comforted  myself  with  the  thought  of  all 
the  good  treatment  I  would  get  in  the  rear.  I  was 
fortunate  that  I  was  not  blown  to  smithereens  as  I 
was  being  carried  off  the  field  for  the  enemy  showered 
us  with  high  explosives. 

Finally,  I  reached  the  dressing  station,  where  I  was 
given  first  aid.  After  a  couple  of  hours,  a  dozen  or 
more  wounded  fellows  were  put  into  a  truck  and  we 
began  a  five  mile  ride  to  the  hospital.  The  roads  were 
torn  all  to  pieces  and  the  trip  reached  a  climax  of 
pure  agony. 

At  the  evacuation  hospital,  I  was  immediately  op- 
erated on,  and  when  I  awoke  I  was  lying  in  a  clean, 
white  bed.  It  seemed  like  Heaven,  and  the  other 
wounded  boys  shared  my  feelings. 

On  a  hospital  train  I  was  shipped  to  Base  Numbei 
1  and  the  wonderful  treatment  I  received  there  more 
than  repaid  any  sacrifice  I  may  have  made.  My  re- 
covery was  so  rapid  that  they  sent  me  on  to  Base  Num- 
ber 31  at  Nantes.  During  my  two  weeks  there,  I  was 
honored  by  a  cot  visit  from  General  Pershing  and  sev- 
eral prominent  Frenchmen,  who  were  inspecting  the 
place. 

From  there  I  went  to  Savenay  for  two  days,  and 
then  at  last  to  Brest  and  believe  me,  I'd  had  my  fill  of 
riding  on  hospital  trains. 

The  Northern  Pacific  brought  me  home  and  how  we 
cheered  when  we  got  our  first  glimpse  of  the  Statue 
of   Liberty  again. 

"And  I'd  do  it  all  over  again." 


54  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

VII. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES. 

Private  Wayne  W.  French 

Enlisted  in  United  States  Marine  Corps,  May,  1917.  As- 
signed to  the  Headquarters  Company,  Trench  Mortar  platoon, 
Fifth  Regiment.  In  France  June,  1917.  Wounded  at  Bellcau 
Wood.     Ten  months  in  hospitals  in  France  and  America. 

His  Own  Story 

As  I  go  back  in  my  mind  over  my  experiences  in 
France,  I  can  see  very  clearly  now  the  wisdom  of  the 
severe  training  they  give  the  Marines,  and  the  care 
with  which  they  pick  out  their  recruits. 

You  must  know  that  during  those  first  weeks  of  the 
War,  we  lads  from  all  over  the  country  poured  in  on 
the  recruiting  stations  of  the  Marine  Corps  and  they 
had  a  big  assortment  to  pick  and  choose  from. 

A  chum  of  mine  who  went  with  me  to  enlist,  was 
turned  down  for  what  seemed  to  me  the  most  trifling 
physical  defect.  I  was  "sore"  over  it  at  the  time,  but 
I  know  now  the  Marines  were  right  to  be  so  careful. 

And  in  telling  my  story,  I  am  going  to  say  more 
than  perhaps  you  would  have  me  say  about  our  train- 
ing over  here.  For  that,  to  me,  is  the  important  part 
of  it.  You  know  we  made  good  in  France,  but  you 
must  not  be  allowed  to  get  the  idea  that  it  was  simply 
because  we  were  Americans.  It  was  not  due  to  that. 
It  was  because  we  were  fit.  Fit  to  live,  to  fight,  or 
die.  Fit  to  succeed  in  anything  we  had  undertaken, 
either  of  a  civil  or  a  military  nature. 

The  regular  Marine  course  of  training  with  the 
country  on  a  peace  footing,  is  fourteen  weeks.  This 
commences  when  the  recruit  takes  his  preliminary  oath 
and  goes  into  quarantine.  When  quarantine  is  passed, 
and  another  thorough  physical  examination  undergone, 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 55 

the  second  and  full  oath  of  allegiance  is  tendered,  and 
when  taken  by  the  man  he  becomes,  so  far  as  the  books 
go,  a  Marine. 

In  the  meantime,  he  has  been  acquiring  from  the  at- 
mosphere of  the  camp  and  the  bearing  of  the  Marines 
about  him,  something  of  the  Marine  spirit  so  when  he 
takes  his  place  finally  as  one  of  a  squad  of  eight,  he 
is  well  on  the  way  toward  becoming  a  soldier  of  the 
sea. 

The  drill  is  intense  but  very  intelligent.  One  learns 
constantly  the  reason  why  of  everything  he  is  required 
to  do.  There  is  a  constant  appeal  to  the  recruit's 
mind.  Along  with  the  drill,  goes  the  "setting  up"  ex- 
ercises that  seem  enough  to  break  a  man  in  pieces  at 
first,  but  after  about  three  weeks  have  him  in  the  pink 
of  physical  condition. 

They  teach  us,  too,  the  importance  of  cleanliness  and 
order  in  a  life  to  be  lived  among  numbers  of  other 
men  and  often  in  close  quarters.  Neatness,  exactness, 
endurance,  become  ingrained  habits. 

The  rifle  range  comes  in  for  attention,  and  no  mat- 
ter how  well  a  man  may  have  shaped  up  to  that  mo- 
ment, if  he  cannot  shoot  straight  or  be  taught  the  art 
of  accurate  shooting,  he  is  dropped  from  the  Corps. 

Then  there  are  many  other  things  we  have  to  learn. 
Signaling,  map  making,  telegraphy,  how  to  assemble, 
dis-assemble,  and  use  all  sorts  of  arms. 

When  I  tell  you  that  under  the  pressure  of  the  open- 
ing of  the  War  for  this  country,  they  put  us  through 
this  course  in  from  six  to  eight  weeks  and  then  sent 
us  over  seas,  as  samples  of  the  kind  of  fighting  men 
America  wrould  contribute  to  the  cause  of  Democracy, 
you  can  get  a  line  on  the  manner  of  men  that  made  up 
the  United  States  Marine  Corps. 

It  was  what  that  training  did  for  me  that  has  made 
me  an  advocate  of  universal  training  ever  since.  If 
we  could  fight  as  we  did  after  a  few  weeks  of  it,  what 
do  you  suppose  we  could  have  done  in  business?  But 
that's  another  story.  The  American  Legion  can  settle 
that  business  once  it  gets  in  step  with  the  G.  A.  R. 


56         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

In  May,  then,  I  enlisted  in  the  Marines,  and  the  lat- 
ter part  of  June  I  tramped  down  the  gang  plank  of  a 
transport  as  a  member  of  the  American  Expeditionary 
Force,  comprised  of  detachments  of  the  Fifth  Regi- 
ment, U.  S.  M.  C. 

Some  of  the  men  remained  on  duty  where  we 
landed,  but  the  larger  part  of  us  were  spread  all  over 
France  on  Provost  Guard  duty.  There  we  stuck  at 
that  hateful  job  while  men  who  had  come  into  the 
army  and  the  corps  after  us  began  to  see  service. 

But  they  gathered  us  together  after  a  time,  and  we 
began  to  train  all  over  again  in  a  training  area  near 
Verdun.  We  men  of  the  Fifth  Marines  were  billeted 
in  four  French  villages,  and  they  sent  us  French  troops 
and  some  bully  French  officers  for  instructors  as  to  the 
particular  devilishness  of  the  Huns. 

Our  training  fields  were  miles  away  from  our  bil- 
lets and  every  day,  be  the  weather  fair  or  foul,  we 
shouldered  our  packs  and  hiked  it  out  and  back. 

Sixteen  miles  a  day  under  baggage  is  no  joke  when 
you  have  spent  the  hours  in  between  times  digging 
trenches,  drilling  with  the  bayonet,  stringing  wire, 
and  doing  the  hundreds  of  other  things  we  were  called 
upon  to  do. 

There  wasn't  much  singing  when  we  turned  our 
faces  toward  the  billets,  perhaps  in  the  face  of  a  driv- 
ing snow  storm  or  through  rain  that  fell  in  sheets.  But 
those  were  the  times  when  you  found  the  temper  of 
the  men  in  your  outfit,  when  the  helping  hand  of  your 
Buddie  came  like  a  burst  of  sunshine. 

The  officers  too  were  bricks.  They  knew  their  end 
of  the  game. 

I'll  tell  you  something,  when  your  lieutenant  takes 
your  pack  for  you,  to  give  you  a  chance  to  get  your 
second  breath  of  grit  so  you  can  bear  the  pain  of  your 
blistered  feet  and  not  lose  your  place  in  the  line,  he 
does  something  you  don't  forget  when  you  see  him  go 
down  under  fire. 

Still  our  health  was  good  and  that  helped.  The 
chow  was  fine.     And  through  it  all  there  ran  a  reso- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  57 

hue  thread  of  purpose  whose  reward  we  read  in  Black 
Jack    Pershing's    face   the   day   of    our   review. 

March  15th,  we  went  up  to  the  line,  and  when  we 
were  leaving  the  train  at  a  little  station  where  we  de- 
trained back  of  the  line,  the  first  German  shell  reached 
us.  We  lost  no  men,  but  we  heard,  for  the  first  time, 
the  scream  of  hate  the  devilish  things  give  off  and 
the  crash  of  the  explosion,  as  though  the  world  had 
blown  up.  The  band  lost  some  instruments.  That 
seemed  a  calamity  at  the  time,  but  we  marched  to  dif- 
ferent music  so  soon  that  now  what  then  was  tragic, 
only  evokes  a  smile. 

When  once  we  were  in  the  trenches  and  from  our 
"combat  groups"  looked  out  over  "no  man's  land"  at 
the  ruins  of  villages  and  farm  houses,  saw  the  fields 
pitted  with  craters,  burned  bare  from  shell  fire  and 
poisoned  by  gas,  we  began  to  realize  something  of 
the  hell  of  war. 

They  don't  give  you  much  time  to  think  or  brood. 
Something  is  always  happening.  And  the  patrol 
work  at  night  keyed  us  up.  We  began  to  lose  men, 
too,  from  the  enemy's  fire  and  in  our  encounters, 
and,  for  every  life  the  Hun  took  from  us,  you  can 
write  it  down  we  made  him  pay  a  heavy  toll. 

The  patrol  work  came  naturally  to  us.  When  it 
comes  to  skull  dugging  around  in  the  brush  with  a 
gun,  pot  shotting,  the  Yank  has  it  on  the  world.  I'd 
say  he  has. 

The  Huns  began  to  hug  their  own  trenches  closely, 
but  their  officers  must  have  made  up  their  minds  it 
would  not  do  to  let  us  get  away  with  it.  So  they 
put  on  a  raid. 

Our  patrols  were  out,  of  course,  as  usual,  and  on 
the  night  of  which  I  write,  I  was  one  of  a  patrol  of 
about  thirty  men.  We  ran  jam  right  into  the  Huns, 
and  there  was  a  wild  mix-up  for  a  while.  We  had  it 
out  with  musket  butt,  bayonet,  and  fist.  They  out- 
numbered us  at  least  three  to  one,  but  we  rolled  them 
up,  drove  them  back,  and  then  beat  it  for  our  own 
trenches  before  they  could  get  their  barrage  on  us. 


58  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Those  things  used  to  scare  me  the  next  day.  Many 
a  time  when  I  had  dropped  over  the  trench  to  safety, 
I  found  myself  so  weak  with  reaction  from  the  nervous 
strain  I  could  scarcely  stand,  while  my  stomach  felt 
as  it  did  on  the  way  over. 

About  the  middle  of  May,  we  were  relieved  and 
went  into  billets  in  the  vicinity  of  Bar-le-duc,  where 
we  took  up  our  drilling  again,  and  had  a  chance  to 
get  cleaned  up  and  hunt  the  cooties  we  had  accumu- 
lated in  the  vermin  infested  trenches. 

About  this  time,  too,  we  began  to  hear  stories  of 
disaster  to  the  British  in  Picardy  and  Flanders.  The 
air  seemed  tense  with   German  suggestion. 

The  countryside  was  abloom  with  all  the  beauty  of 
France  in  the  spring,  and  through  fields  green  with 
young  crops,  and  forests  filled  with  flowers,  we  began 
to  move  toward  the  British  front.  The  faces  of  the 
people  in  the  French  villages  wore  a  brooding  cloud, 
as  though  they,  too,   felt  the  German  menace. 

The  spirit  of  France  and  Britain  lagged ;  and  while 
we  brought  them  some  comfort,  they  could  not  believe 
that  this  handful  of  Americans  with  boyish  faces  could 
achieve  the  impossible. 

Little  did  we  suspect  the  role  for  which  Fate  had 
cast  us. 

The  afternoon  of  May  30th,  brought  us  orders  to 
take  camions  for  a  destination  unknown.  But  the  cam- 
ions did  not  come.  We  made  camp  in  the  fields,  eating 
our  emergency  rations,  and  sleeping  on  our  ponchos 
wrapped  in  our  blankets.  It  seemed  as  though  we  had 
but  touched  the  ground  before  reveille  sounded  and  the 
camions  were  on  hand,  driven  by  haggard,  hollow-eyed 
Chinks  who  had  forgotten  what  the  word  sleep  meant. 

It  was  a  long  ride  and  a  hard  one.  We  passed  to  the 
north  of  Paris,  and  little  did  I  think  then  that  in  a 
few  weeks  I  would  be  coming  back  over  the  same 
road,  wounded  and  out  of  it  all. 

The  road  ran  by  a  cemetery. 

"Here's  a  quiet  sector,"  some  one  shouted  with  a 
laugh,  "let's  take  over  here." 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  59 

And  we  gathered  flowers  as  opportunity  offered, 
decking  our  tin  hats  and  uniforms.  Thus  the  first  of 
those  stricken  refugees  saw  us,  smiling,  laughing,  sing- 
ing, trimmed  as  for  a  carnival,  as  we  rolled  forward 
toward  the  Great  Adventure. 

If  we  did  not  wear  our  hearts  on  our  sleeves,  never- 
theless the  sight  of  those  old  men  and  women,  the 
little  children,  fleeing  before  the  Hun,  left  its  impres- 
sion upon  us.  We  thought  of  America  away  across 
the  seas,  with  her  fields,  and  homes,  and  people  in 
peace  and  security,  and  we  were  mighty  glad,  I  tell  you, 
that  we  could  do  our  fighting  for  you,  so  many  miles 
away. 

It  is  difficult  for  me  to  untangle  the  twisted  memories 
of  the  days  and  hours  that  followed.  We  seemed  to 
ride  into  a  madness  which  grew  and  grew. 

The  camions  landed  us  in  the  wrong  place  Orders 
were  changed  from  hour  to  hour.  We  had  to  march 
all  the  next  forenoon,  after  only  two  hours'  rest  and 
with  little  to  eat.  Kitchens  were  lost,  the  band  was 
lost.  Headquarters  was  lost,  and  we  were  lost,  but 
at  least  we  marched,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Marines 
when  in  doubt,  toward  the  sound  of  the  enemy's  guns. 

In  Montreuil  aux  Lions,  we  halted  for  chow.  There 
was  a  lot  of  stuff  the  French  had  abandoned  in  their 
flight,  and  it  helped  out  the  emergency  rations,  and 
with  full  stomachs  we  sure  had  a  heart  for  any  fate. 

The  French  troops  began  to  pass  us.  The  broken 
fragments  of  a  defeated  army.  Hopeless  fugitives. 
Dazed,  incoherent. 

We  slept  that  night  close  behind  the  French  lines 
with  batteries  of  French  155's  splitting  their  throats  all 
night  close  by.     But  nothing  could  keep   us  awake. 

In  the  morning,  we  began  to  strip  for  the  fight  and 
take  on  ammunition.  The  French  and  some  colonial 
troops  of  theirs  were  reeling  before  the  constant  pres- 
sure of  the  German  columns,  the  world  was  filled  with 
the  roar  of  guns. 

We  were  breasting  the  high  tide  of  German  victory. 
The  eager  breath  of  the  Hun  panted  in  our  faces  yet 


60  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

still  we  laughed  and  swore,  rolled  our  own,  and  edged 
along  up  into  the  line,  touching  shoulders  with  the 
Sixth  Marines  on  the  right,  and  on  the  left,  with  the 
French,  in  whom,  for  the  moment,  we  had  little  con- 
fidence, for  they  were  badly  shaken.  But  over  beyond 
the  French  was  the  23rd  Regulars,  and  we  knew  we 
could  count  on  it.  if  a  break  came. 

In  front  of  the  position  where  I  had  dug  my  own 
fox  hole,  were  some  hay  stacks.  The  Germans  tried 
to  creep  up  and  fire  them  for  a  smoke  screen.  We 
were  bound  to  prevent  it.  A  lively  and  almost  good 
natured  scrimmage  began,  but  it  was  in  dead  earnest. 
We  drove  them  back,  keeping  the  ground  before  us 
clear  and  open.  When  they  came,  they  would  have  to 
come  in  the  face  of  the  fire  of  hundreds  of  sharpshoot- 
ers, trained  to  a  hair,  who  had  lived  all  their  lives  for 
that  one  moment  and  thought  of  no  other. 

Some  of  our  engineers  came  up  and  helped  get  our 
position  into  more  tenable  condition.  The  Hun  fiddled 
around,  seemingly  unable  to  realize  that  we  boys  had 
come  to  stay. 

News  began  to  come  to  us.  We  heard  of  the  great 
fight  of  our  machine  gunners  at  Chateau-Thierry. 

Our  officers  slipped  along  exchanging  a  few  words 
with  us,  telling  us  what  they  knew  of  the  situation, 
of  the  danger  to  Paris  and  the  Allied  armies.  They 
made  us  understand  that  we  held  the  line  for  the  world. 
They  did  not  need  to  tell  us  that  we  were  to  hold 
the  line.  We  knew  it.  We  knew  what  we  were  there 
for. 

It  was  the  great  moment  of  the  Marines ! 

I  am  not  going  to  write  of  the  fight.  You  know  it 
by  heart.  It  was  the  things  that  were  behind  us  of 
which  I  have  written,  that  made  it  possible.  To  me, 
they  are  more  important  than  the  fight. 

I  am  reminded  that  this  is  supposed  to  be  my  story. 
Well,  I  was  wounded  by  a  H.  E.  shell  while  coming 
out  of  Belleau  Wood.  The  same  shell  killed  my  best 
friend,  within  reach  of  my  hand.  It  turned,  in  a  sec- 
ond, that  joyous  chap  into  an  object  so  loathsome  to 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  61 

see,  that  at  nights  still  I  awake  in  a  cold  sweat  of 
horror  from  my  dreams.     But  he  did  not  suffer. 

For  ten  months,  I  have  been  in  the  hospitals  in 
France  and  America  and  I'll  tell  you  this,  I  am  mighty 
glad  we  kept  it  all  over  there. 


PRIVATE  FRANK  J.  VANDERHOVEN 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 63 

VIII. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT. 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Private  Frank  J.  Vanderhoven 

Bom  in  Passaic,  N.  J.,  Dec.  23,  1897.  Enlisted  at  Paterson, 
N.  J.,  March  31,  1915,  in  United  States  Marine  Corps.  Served 
in  Haiti  and  Santo  Domingo.  Overseas  June  26,  1917 ,  with 
5th  regiment  of  Marines.  Verdun,  Chateau-Thierry,  Belleau 
Wood,  Soissons,  and  Champagne.  Probably  first  New  Jersey 
soldier  wounded  in  the   War. 

His  Own  Story 

I  enlisted  in  the  Marine  Corps  in  time  of  peace,  be- 
fore we  had  the  company  and  regimental  organization. 
Then,  when  trouble  broke  out,  it  was  the  custom  to 
grab  up  a  handful  of  Marines  and  send  them  off  to 
frown  on  the  disturbers  of  international  peace. 

We  saw  some  lively  service  in  the  Island  Republics, 
and  certainly  learned  to  like  those  countries.  We  were 
back  in  the  United  States  for  Christmas  in  1916. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  made  a  part  of  the 
first  outfit  the  Marines  sent  to  France,  and  I  arrived 
there  in  June,  1917.  Some  of  the  men  were  detailed 
for  provost  guard  duty,  but  again  I  was  fortunate  and 
went  with  the  single  detachment  that  took  up  train- 
ing at  once. 

I  can't  go  into  all  that  now,  more  than  to  mention 
that  we  were  sent  to  the  trenches  on  the  Verdun  front 
in  March,  1918,  and,  while  there,  I  was  one  of  fifteen 
of  our  men  who,  from  our  "combat  posts,"  met  a  heavy 
German  attack  upon  our  lines  and  repelled  the  same, 
for  which  the  French  Government  awarded  us  the 
Croix  de  Guerre. 

Our  next  big  rumpus  was  in  the  Chateau-Thierry 
sector.  There,  in  June,  we  taught  the  whole  world 
the  value  of  infantry  that  knows  how  to  shoot. 

When  the  Boche  attacked  our  lines,  with  his  closed 


64 ECHOES  FROM  01  ER  THERE 

up  rank-,  in  wave  upon  wave,  in  the  full  confidence 
of  victory,  it  was  not  our  few  machine  guns  that  piled 
him  up,  but  the  deadly  accuracy  of  our  Marine  sharp- 
shooters and  marksmen  who.  crouching  in  their  Eox 

holes,  picked  their  men  and  killed  them,  one  after  an- 
other, with  the  cool,  deliberate  shooting  they  had  been 
trained  in  and  .schooled  in  on  the  ranges.  We  wasted 
few  cartridges  that  day. 

In  fact,  1  want  to  say  that  I  have  never  yet  heard  of 
the  Marines  really  running  out  of  ammunition.  The 
enemy  is  always  shot  to  pieces  before  that  stage  of  the 
game. 

At  this  time,  we  had  great  help  from  the  Engineers, 
I  believe  the  2nd  Regiment,  who  not  only  helped  us 
dig  but  helped  us  fight,  and  believe  me,  those  bucks  are 
some  keen  eyed  shots  and  handy  with  a  gun. 

But  the  really  exciting  experiences  I  had  in  France 
were  not  when  I  wras  in  action,  so  to  speak,  that  is  on 
the  battle  line,  but  on  special  details. 

While  we  were  near  Lucy  le  Bocage,  I  was  detailed 
to  go  after  chow.  The  kitchens  were  kept  back  in  the 
reserve  where  they  were  supposed  to  be  safe  from  the 
German  guns.  The  chow  detail  consisted  of  about 
fifty  men,  and  we  had  to  bring  up  the  grub  for  at  least 
a  thousand  of  the  hungriest  men  you  ever  saw. 

If  the  kitchens  were  safe,  the  going  and  coming  to 
them  was  darned  unhealthy.  On  our  way  back,  a  1  fun 
flier  got  a  peep  at  us  and  we  very  promptly  were 
treated  to  a  heavy  shelling  with  mustard  gas  shell, 
just  about  the  cussedest  thing  in  the  military  line  there 
is. 

We  dropped  the  chow,  took  what  cover  was  avail- 
able, and  waited  for  darkness  to  make  it  possible  to 
go  ahead. 

Presently,  the  Hun  let  up  on  us,  so  gathering  up 
our  assorted  chow,  we  started  on  and  reached  our  line 
to  find  that  in  our  absence,  the  men  had  come  in  for 
a  heavy  shelling  with  H.  E.  and  shrapnel  and  had  suf- 
fered many  casualties. 

There  were  the  hungry  to  be  fed  and  the  wounded 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 65 

to  be  cared  for,  while  several  fellows  had  gone  raving 
mad.  Somehow  or  other,  we  got  the  men  fed,  the 
wounded  on  the  way  back  to  the  rear,  and  the  poor  dev- 
ils who  had  gone  crazy  passed  on  to  those  who  would 
get  them  away  from  the  row  as  quickly  as  possible. 

That  night  sticks  out  in  my  memory  beyond  all 
others.  The  feeling  and  fumbling  around  in  the  dark ; 
the  sour  sweaty  bodies  of  the  men;  the  strong  reek 
from  the  exploded  shell  and  the  taint  of  the  food  gone 
cold  and  messy.  All  these  things  assailed  me,  and  even 
to  this  day  when  I  get  in  a  crowd,  I  feel  sick  and  ner- 
vous and  live  through  it  all  again. 

Along  toward  dawn,  the  Hun  shelled  us  again  for  a 
short  interval.  One  H.  E.  burst  fairly  among  a  group 
of  the  men,  killing  several  and  messing  the  others  up, 
and  another  man  went  crazy.  A  sergeant  he  was ;  he 
grabbed  up  his  gun  and  began  prowling  around ;  we 
were  trying  to  catch  him  and  disarm  him,  but  •  he 
kept  us  away  with  the  play  of  his  gun  till  a  Yale  lad, 
who  had  played  on  the  football  team,  made  a  quick 
dive  tackle  and  brought  him  down. 

I  tell  you,  people,  it's  mighty  tough  to  see  your 
friends  killed  about  you,  but  it  sure  does  make  you 
sick  all  over  to  see  a  fine,  big  chap  driven  crazy. 

But  we  had  our  fun,  too.  It  wasn't  all  misery  and 
tragedy. 

There  was  once  when  we  moved  camp,  that  we  fell 
heir  to  an  assorted  bunch  of  live  stock.  Some  ancient 
cows  that  could,  however,  be  induced  to  give  a  little 
milk ;  some  hens  that  laid  real  eggs  while  they  lived, 
though  their  span  of  life  was  about  that  of  a  dis- 
patch rider.  You  know  they  figured  out  a  dispatch 
rider  lived  about  twelve  minutes. 

Where  we  were  at  the  time,  they  allowed  us  to 
build  fires.  Presently,  some  one  proposed  that  we  kill 
the  cows,  on  the  principle  that  a  steak  between  the  ribs 
was  worth  a  dozen  drops  of  milk  in  a  cup  of  coffee. 

We  didn't  have  a  butcher  in  the  command.  They  all 
seem  to  be  Germans  any  way.  By  the  time  we  had  our 
beef  slaughtered  and  dressed,  the  place  looked  like  a 


66  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

shambles  and  the  men  as  though  they  had  been  "mop- 
ping np"  Jerries. 

Such  cuts  of  beef  no  man  lias  seen,  I  guess,  since 
cave  man  days.  But  I'll  say  it  tasted  good  and  felt 
better,  for  all  tbe  job  was  not  done  in  the  best  of  style. 

We  saw  quite  a  lot  of  tbe  26th  division.  Tbe 
Yankees,  they  call  themselves.  1  hey  didn't  kndw 
much  about  the  fine  points  of  soldiering  that  cut  the 
hard  corners  and  save  a  lot  of  lives,  but  they  were 
game,  and  nothing  but  death  ever  stopped  them.  They 
saw  plenty  of  that. 

When  they  got  going  after  an  objective  they  forgot 
all  about  cover,  and  extended  order,  so  they  would 
be  bunched  together,  and  then  the  Hun  machine  gain- 
ers would  give  it  to  them.  But  those  boys  never 
stopped ;  a  few  of  them  would  manage  to  get  to 
the  objective,  and  then  you'd  see  about  four  times 
their  number  of  Huns  coming  back  on  the  run. 

I  think  I  am  entitled  to  figure  in  history  as  the  first 
Xew  Jersey  boy  wounded  after  America  went  into 
the  War. 

In  March,  191S,  I  was  gassed,  and  then  again  in  the 
Chateau-Thierry  sector  I  was  wounded  in  the  right 
side  and  sent  to  the  hospital   for  a  while. 

I'm  living  now  in  Paterson,  and  Jersey  sure  does 
look  good  to  me. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  67 


Soldier  s  Letter 

"Had  an  unexpected  fight  the  other  evening.  Just 
before  sunset,  our  company  had  fought  its  way  into  a 
small  woods.  There  was  some  decent  water  there,  and 
every  one  was  was  tired  and  hungry.  On  either  flank, 
the  rest  of  the  battalion  was  coming  into  line  with  the 
front  as  we  had  established  it.  From  the  edge  of  the 
wood  ran  an  irregular  piece  of  broken  country,  with 
many  small  shrubs  and  clumps  of  bushes.  The  ground 
rose  slightly.  The  Huns  were  dug-in  about  a  hundred 
yards  away  on  the  rising  ground. 

"The  Colonel  had  come  up  and  was  snooping  along 
the  edge  of  our  line  looking  the  ground  over  with  an 
I.  O.  Suddenly  some  batteries  farther  back,  in  re- 
sponse to  signals  from  the  German  trench,  began  to 
shell  us.  A  few  stray  shots.  Ranging.  I  heard  the 
Colonel  swear  and  bark  an  order.  The  officers  began 
flying  around. 

"The  men  were  all  alert  before  any  orders  were 
given.  Into  the  open  stepped  the  Colonel.  He  stopped 
with  his  back  to  the  Hun  trench  and  spoke  to  us : 

"  'Step  out  men  and  give  it  to  them.  They're  asking 
for  it/ 

"I  was  the  fifth  man  out.  The  whole  outfit  pounded 
along.  We  had  that  trench  before  the  Hun  really 
woke  up.  Only  two  casualties  and  they  weren't  hos- 
pital cases." 


CORPORAL  PAUL  BOXXER 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 69 

IX. 

THE  FIRST  TO  FIGHT 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  MARINES 

Paul  Boxxer 

Bom  and  still  lives  in  New  York.  Enlisted  in  Marines. 
Overseas  with  5th  regiment.  Brought  out  Captain  Blanch- 
field  under  heavy  fire. 

His  Own  Story 

The  men  who  could  tell  the  best  stories  of  this  war 
are  dead,  for  they  could  tell  of  the  supreme  act  of 
the  war,  the  passing  out.  We  who  live,  however,  can 
tell  many  things,  and  I  confess  I  am  rather  anxious  to 
write  a  small  part  of  my  story  because  I  want  it  on 
paper  before  its  depth  is  lessened  by  civil  life.  The 
greatest  action  I  participated  in  was  the  fight  in  Bel- 
leau  Wood,  and  I  am  going  to  write  of  that.  Not 
of  the  battle  from  the  broad  viewpoint  of  the  General 
who  commanded,  but  from  the  viewpoint  of  the  pri- 
vate soldier  who  took  his  orders  and  carried  out  his 
oath  of  enlistment  to  the  last. 

My  first  recollection  of  what  happened,  is  that  I 
was  riding  in  an  auto  truck,  tired,  and  kept  from 
sleeping  only  by  the  jarring  of  the  car.  For  two  days, 
we  went  over  a  road  of  swirling  dust,  and  at  night  we 
were  dumped  in  a  field.  A  night  of  fitful  sleeping,  or 
rather  three  hours  of  fitful  sleeping,  interrupted  by  a 
lone  German  who  came  over  to  bomb  us,  and  we  were 
on  our  way  in  the  morning. 

We  walked,  half  asleep,  and  just  doggedly  going 
on  until  suddenly  we  came  on  soldiers  running  to  the 
rear,  retreating.  They  were  Africans  and  French  sol- 
diers and  they  shouted  to  us  that  the  Germans  were 
coming  on.  We  suddenly  became  alert.  We  heard 
officers  shouting  to  us  to  keep  right  on  going.  We  ran 
up  a  road  toward  a  hill  and  as  we  reached  the  top,  I 


70  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

saw  my  commanding  officer,  Captain  John  Blanchfield, 
standing  at  the  side  of  the  road. 

"The  devils  are  coming  on,"  he  shouted.  "You  have 
been  waiting  for  them  for  a  year;  now  go  get  them." 

He  was  shouting  in  his  Irish  brogue  and  his  blood 
was  up.  He  thrilled  every  one  of  us.  We  ran  across 
a  wheat  field  and  dropped  in  it.  We  lay  there  and 
watched  our  shrapnel  shells  breaking  far  ahead.  By 
the  approach  of  our  own  breaking  shell,  we  gauged 
the  advance  of  the  enemy  and,  sure  enough,  when  the 
shell  were  breaking  about  a  thousand  yards  away,  we 
spotted  the  figures  of  the  enemy  marching  on  in  single 
columns.  Now  and  then  a  shell  would  get  one  of 
them,  but  the  rest  kept  coming. 

We  all  looked  to  see  that  our  rifles  were  loaded. 
From  somewhere  along  the  road  we  got  the  command 
to  fire.  Sharpshooters  only,  I  thought  I  heard  them 
say,  but  everybody  fired.  Those  Germans  just  melted 
away.  Whole  columns  went  down  and  the  others 
scattered  to  the  right  and  the  left.  They  were  utterly 
stunned  and  surprised,  and  there  was  not  an  answering 
shot. 

All  night  we  waited  but  not  a  shot  was  fired.  At 
dawn,  however,  their  artillery  came  up  and  out  of  the 
sky  their  shell  began  to  tumble.  When  a  man  was 
wounded  someone  would  call,  "Hospital  man."  A  Red 
Cross  man  would  rush  out  to  carry  away  the  fallen 
one  and  another  soldier  would  take  his  comrade's 
place.  All  day  and  night  we  stayed  there  and  many 
times  the  line  was  refilled,  but  a  few  of  us  lived 
through. 

Sometime  the  next  day,  and  mind  you,  we  had  not 
had  water  or  food  all  this  time,  we  got  an  order  to  go 
ahead.  Blanchfield  led  the  column  down  the  Torcy 
road.  We  did  not  know  Germans  were  there.  They 
let  us  pass,  and  they  opened  from  the  flanks.  I  saw 
Blanchfield  fall,  right  on  the  road.  Everybody  scat- 
tered. I  started  to  run,  then  I  thought  of  Blanchfield, 
and  I  started  back.  I  rushed  across  the  road,  machine 
gun  bullets  whipping  the  air  everywhere,  and  I  made 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  71 

the  Captain's  side.  He  was  still  alive.  He  was  twice 
my  size,  but  I  picked  him  up  and  carried  him  back.  I 
got  him  into  the  woods  to  a  doctor  and  left  him  to  look 
for  the  company.  I  found  them  just  in  time  to  be  in 
for  the  orders  to  attack  Belleau  Wood. 

We  went  in  from  one  side  of  the  woods.  Men  were 
falling  everywhere.  We  got  the  first  German  funk 
holes  and  found  many  dead  ones  there  and  a  few 
live  ones.  There  were  a  few  lights.  A  big  German 
lunged  at  me,  and  now  he  will  never  see  his  father 
in  the  Fatherland  any  more.  We  stayed  there  while 
the  Germans  pounded  us  with  artillery. 

From  then  on,  it  was  just  a  case  of  stay  there  while 
they  pounded.  For  twenty-three  days  we  remained, 
just  hanging  on  and  then  gaining  a  little.  Most  of  the 
old  originals  were  gone  and  we  were  fighting  with  re- 
placements. Then  we  got  a  few  days  rest  and  back 
again  we  went.  We  stayed  twenty  days  more,  but  fin- 
ally in  one  grand  smash,  we  broke  in  at  dawn  one 
morning ;  I  never  knew  the  exact  date,  and  we  had  all 
of  the  woods. 

The  Germans  had  been  stopped ;  but  from  Bel- 
leau on  it  was  one  grand  smash.  To  Soissons,  and  then 
to  Blanch  Mont,  then  to  the  Argonne.  Just  one  con- 
tinual repetition  of  Belleau  Wood  until  that  Novem- 
ber morning  when  all  the  Germans  said  "Kamerad," 
and  it  was  finished.  Many  weeks  later  I  heard  that 
an  officer  saw  me  carry  Blanchfield  away  and  had 
recommended  me  for  the  D.  S.  C.  Isn't  it  funny  to 
get  that  for  doing  a  thing  at  a  time  when  I  was  more 
scared  than  at  any  time  during  the  war. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 


Captain  Wilmar  H.  Bradshaw,  son  of  William  R. 
Bradshaw,  of  57  Locust  Street,  who  was  with  the 
Ninth  Regiment,  Infantry  Second  Division,  during  the 
war,  and  who  participated  in  various  engagements  in 
France,  has  been  awarded  the  Croix  de  Guerre,  for 
bravery,  by  the  French  Government. 

The  young  officer  received  this  much  coveted  reward 
Thursday  afternoon,  together  with  a  letter  from  the 
War  Department  of  France. 

The  letter  stated  that  the  award  was  made  to  Cap- 
tain Bradshaw  for  his  bravery  and  fearlessness  in  the 
battle  of  Soissons,  July  18,  when  he  led  a  detachment 
of  his  men  in  a  scouting  party  in  an  attack  on  the 
enemy,  amid  a  fusilade  of  machine  gun  bullets.  In 
this  attack  about  three-quarters  of  the  officers  of  Cap- 
tain Bradshaw's  regiment  were  killed. 

As  a  result  of  Captain  Bradshaw's  work  a  band  of 
five  hundred  Germans  wras  surrounded  and  taken  pris- 
oners. In  the  letter  which  accompanied  the  cross,  it 
was  stated  that  the  award  was  made  to  Captain  Brad- 
shaw on  the  personal  recommendation  of  Major  Foch, 
whose  attention  had  been  called  to  the  young  officer's 
wonderful  bravery. 

This  incident  happened  a  few  weeks  after  Captain 
Bradshaw  had  been  discharged  from  the  hospital, 
where  he  had  been  detained  eleven  wreeks  because  of 
a  bullet  wound  received  in  another  engagement — 
Flushing  Journal,  May  23. 


PART  II. 
THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 


CAPTAIN  WILMAR  BRADSHAW 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  75 

I. 
THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Captain  Wilmar  Bradshaw 

Bom  in  Brooklyn.  Resides  57  Locust  Ave.,  Flushing. 
Graduate  Jamaica  Normal  School.  First  Plattsburg  Camp  and 
officers'  training  camp  in  France.  Commissioned  2nd  lieutenant 
and  assigned  Ninth  U.  S.  I.  (Regular).  Promoted  to  Captain 
while  on  duty.  Cited  for  obtaining  valuable  information  and 
leading  his  men  with  courage  and  coolness.     Croix  de  Guerre. 

His  Own  Story 

Outdoor  life  and  athletic  games  have  always  at- 
tracted me,  and  while  I  am  about  the  last  person  one 
would  suspect  of  cherishing  military  ambitions,  I  own 
up  frankly  to  a  great  admiration  for  soldiers. 

The  impression  soldiers  always  made  upon  me  was 
of  men  who  were  pulled  together  morally  and  physi- 
cally.    I  liked  their  modest  aggressiveness. 

The  Plattsburg  Camp  struck  me  as  a  splendid  op- 
portunity for  young  men,  a  few  years  out  of  school 
and  college,  to  find  themselves  again,  become  once 
more  alert  and  fit,  and  above  all,  learn  the  value  of 
team  work,  obedience  and  discipline. 

There  was  a  promise  in  the  camps,  so  it  seemed  to 
me,  of  those  things  the  nation  needed  at  a  time  when 
we  were  getting  just  a  little  soft  and  flabby. 

After  my  training  at  Plattsburg,  I  was  commis- 
sioned a  second  lieutenant  and  sent  right  off  to  France. 

There  I  had  a  six  weeks'  course  at  our  officers'  train- 
ing camp  near  Marseilles. 

Those  were  the  great  days  for  our  men  in  France. 
Everywhere  we  were  received  with  the  greatest  en- 
thusiasm, loaded  with  flowers,  and  all  that  France  and 
her  people  had  to  give.  It  was  just  what  we  needed. 
It  brought  us  up  on  our  spiritual  tip-toes,  as  the  roar 
of  the  fans  on  the  side  lines  stiffens  up  the  home  eleven 
when  they  trot  out  on  the  field  to  meet  an  opposing 
team  with  a  big  rep. 


76         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

I  think  every  <>ne  of  us,  in  the  silent  sanctuary  of  our 
souls,  took  a  solemn  oath  that  we  would  fail  neither 
America  nor  France. 

When  I  left  the  camp,  I  was  assigned  to  Company 
A  of  the  Ninth  Infantry.  The  famous  Old  Fighting 
Ninth,  whose  story  is  the  history  of  the  republic. 

It  was  good  for  me  to  be  sent  to  such  a  regiment. 

Of  course  the  regiment  was  tilled  with  new  men,  and 
most  of  the  younger  officers  were,  like  myself,  Platts- 
burg  men  or  veterans  up  from  the  ranks.  But  the 
non-commissioned  officers,  who  are,  after  all,  the  mak- 
ing of  a  command,  were  mostly  of  the  old  army,  and 
we  had  a  leavening,  in  the  ranks,  of  men  who  had 
served  a  long  time  in  the  Ninth  and  other  regular 
regiments. 

I  joined  the  regiment  at  Langres,  France,  and  there 
we  drilled  and  drilled  the  men,  and  the  men  taught  us 
new  officers  many  things  only  an  old  campaigner 
knows. 

By  the  middle  of  January,  we  were  engaged  in  real 
training,  and  on  the  17th  of  March,  St.  Patrick's  Day, 
left  for  the  front  on  a  sector  near  St.  Mihiel.  The 
Irish  of  the  regiment  hailed  it  as  a  good  omen,  travel- 
ling that  day,  to  those  songs  of  the  Emerald  Isle  the 
Irish  love  and  sing  so  well. 

The  spirit  of  the  troops  was  superb.  They  bore 
themselves  with  that  assurance  I  had  always  admired. 
They  knew  they  had  much  to  learn  and  would  pay  for 
their  lessons  and  experience  with  their  own  blood,  yet 
they  went  to  the  ordeal  with  the  confidence  of  men 
who  were  sure  of  their  ability  to  do  what  had  to  be 
done,  and  do  it  right. 

Of  course  our  experiences  in  the  training  trenches 
were  but  child's  play  compared  with  what  followed, 
but  they  were  rigorous  to  us  then.  The  First  Division 
had  already  been  in  training  and  through  its  tour  of 
duty  in  the  trenches. 

The  Second  Division  was  organized.  It  consisted  of 
the  Ninth  and  Twenty-third  Infantry,  the  Third  Bri- 
gade, the  Fifth  and  Sixth  Marines,  the  Sixth  Machine 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  11 

Gun  Battalion,  the  Fourth  Brigade.  Major  General 
Omar  Bundy  commanded  the  division. 

And  now  that  I  have  spoken  of  the  division  as  or- 
ganized, I  want  to  set  down  some  facts  as  to  the  ac- 
complishments of  these  men  that  perhaps  should  go 
at  the  end  of  this  article,  but  I  prefer  to  place  them 
here. 

In  the  fighting  in  which  American  troops  were  en- 
gaged in  France,  the  Second  Division  took  one  fourth 
of  all  the  prisoners  that  fell  to  the  Americans ;  suffered 
one-tenth  of  all  the  casualties,  about  36,000,  and  won 
twice  as  many  crosses  as  our  nearest  competitor,  the 
First  Division. 

Let  these  simple  straightforward  facts  answer  those 
who  have  criticised  the  Regular  Army.  I  feel  that  I 
may  well  point  them  out,  though  I  belonged  to  that 
army,  for  I  am  not  a  professional  soldier. 

For  all  the  millions  the  people  of  the  United  States 
have  spent  upon  their  devoted  little  army,  they  were 
paid  in  full  in  the  bloody  days  in  France  between  June 
and  November,  1918. 

If  their  record  were  less  strong,  my  story  would 
not  be  so  long.  As  it  is,  I  pass  over  the  fiery  days  in 
the  Chateau-Thierry  salient,  when  with  the  Third  we 
bore'  the  brunt  of  the  last  German  rush  for  Paris. 

The  Marines,  in  the  first  part  of  "Echoes  From  Over 
There,"  have  told  the  story  of  the  Chateau-Thierry 
salient,  and  generously  accorded  us  our  meed  of  praise. 
So  I  pass  on  to  the  great  offensive  at  Soissons,  when 
in  the  thunder  of  our  barrage,  the  whole  world  heard 
the  story  of  German  disaster,  and  even  the  War  Lord 
himself  knew  the  field  was  lost. 

When  F'och  realized  that  his  opportunity  had  come, 
he  did  not  make  the  mistake  of  sending  a  boy  on  a 
man's  errand.  From  the  long  line  of  fire  extending 
from  Switzerland  to  the  sea,  he  culled  the  best  there 
was  in  fighting  men.  The  Morrocans  moved  into  Vil- 
lers-Cotterets  Forest,  where  they  joined  their  lines  on 
one  flank  with  the  First  Division,  and  on  the  other 
with  the  Second. 


78  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Feats  of  marching,  perhaps  on  some  occasions 
matched,  but  certainly  never  excelled,  marked  the  ef- 
forts of  all  these  troops  to  get  into  position. 

They  came  to  the  battle  line  on  the  morning  of  the 
18th  of  July,  tired  from  days  and  nights  of  continuous 
forced  marches,  made  without  food  or  water,  in 
drenching  rain,  along  roads  jammed  with  men  and 
transport. 

They  came  with  spirits  high,  from  losses  which,  in 
other  wars  and  on  other  fields,  had  meant  the  annihila- 
tion of  the  commands  engaged.  But  the  victory  won 
in  the  Chateau-Thierry  salient  was  no  Phyrric  victory, 
whatever  the  foe  may  have  thought. 

As  dawn  broke  rosy  in  the  east  after  a  night  of 
storm,  there  in  the  purple  depths  of  the  Forest  of 
Villers-Cotterets,  we  counted  off.  Some  eight  hun- 
dred men  were  reported  as  "present"  in  our  battalion 
of  the  Ninth. 

Scarcely  had  we  finished  ''counting, "  when  the  guns 
hidden  in  the  woods  broke  their  silence. 

It  was  our  barrage  that  was  being  put  over,  yet  we 
trembled  at  its  violence.  Then  came  the  reaction.  On 
the  wings  of  that  thunder  of  the  artillery,  our  spirits 
rose  and  rose;  tired  figures  lost  their  droop,  eyes 
dulled  with  suffering  grew  bright  with  the  passion  of 
victory. 

The  soul  of  the  regiment  recognized  the  great  hour. 
A  psychological  change  was  wrought  on  the  instant. 
The  regiment  reached,  at  that  time,  its  highest  state  of 
organization.    It  had  but  one  mind. 

As  suddenly  as  it  had  begun,  the  racket  stopped. 
The  men  swung  forward  without  command;  in  a  wild 
dash  they  reached  the  first  German  line,  and  with  faces 
averted  passed  the  charnel  house  the  guns  had  made  of 
the  position. 

On  they  raced,  now  checked  for  a  few  minutes 
where  great  trees  riven  by  the  blast  sprawled  in  the 
way,  and  again  broken  where  a  machine  gun  nest,  that 
had  survived,  tore  gaps  in  the  lines  before  the  eager 
bayonets  did  their  work. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 79 

They  were  taking  no  prisoners  then. 

In  those  breathless  moments  of  the  first  onward 
sweep,  a  thousand  acts  of  deathless  heroism  were  per- 
formed and  valor  became  ordinary,  trite. 

Oh,  but  those  boys  from  America,  so  many  still  in 
their  teens,  were  magnificent !  The  officers  fell,  and 
fell,  yet  still  the  ranks  moved  on,  the  boys  doing  with- 
out direction  the  things  that  should  be  done. 

I  saw  them  by  threes,  fours,  sometimes  larger  num- 
bers, caught  in  tight  holes,  where  life  for  them  and 
success  for  the  drive  hung  by  an  eyelash.  Again  and 
again  they  met  the  sudden  call,  mastered  the  hereto- 
fore unencountered  situation. 

Where  had  they  learned  this  martial  lore?  What 
sort  of  a  throwback  to  some  fierce  ancestral  soldier 
strain  was  I  beholding?  Then  came  the  answer  in  a 
flash.  They  had  learned  it  on  the  ball  fields.  It  was 
hit  and  run.  It  was  the  infield  pinching  in  or  dropping 
back.  The  quick  pick-up  of  the  fumbled  ball,  and 
the  instant  dash  for  the  hole  in  the  line  for  the  touch 
down  that  meant  victory. 

Mental  alertness  was  the  heritage  of  those  lads  of 
ours,  and  they  used  it  wisely  that  day.- 

Later  on,  they  were  hung  up  for  a  while,  but  there 
could  be  no  stopping;  the  drive  must  go  home.  The 
guns  could  not  help  for  they  knew  not  where  the  line 
was.  The  tanks  came  to  the  rescue.  They  "treated 
'em  rough"  as  they  advanced,  brushing  down  stand- 
ing trees  as  though  they  were  but  stalks  of  grain, 
waltzing  into  gullies,  smashing  their  ugly  snouts  down 
on  gun  positions  and  machine  gun  nests. 

Under  cover  of  the  demoralization  they  caused,  the 
men  were  under  way  again. 

*     *     *     * 

Far  and  wide  ran  the  racket  of  the  fight.  We  had 
outrun  the  Morrocans.  but  off  on  the  flank  in  the  rear, 
we  could  hear  the  roar  of  their  advance  still  carrying 
on.     Away  we  went  with  our  second  breath. 

The  fighting  grew  bitter.  The  Hun  was  pouring 
in    fresh    troops    to    stop   us,    and   though    we    broke 


80  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

through  them  again  and  again,  there  were  always 
others  to  take  their  places. 

We  were  lighting  now  for  each  yard  of  gain  and 
buying  it  with  life.  A  last  surge,  and  we  came  to  rest 
under  shelter  of  an  embankment  along  the  edge  of  the 
woods.  The  entrenching  tools  came  out  and  we  made 
the  ground  fly  as  we  dug  in.  The  woods  full  of  Ger- 
mans spread  far  about  us.  The  Morrocans  were  not 
yet  up,  but  the  roar  of  the  battle  on  their  front  told 
us  they  had  not  quit. 

The  rear  was  still  open — a  long  brown  path  back 
to  the  position  of  the  morning.  There  in  the  shadow 
of  the  tall  columnar  trunks,  our  wounded  lay  in  hun- 
dreds, hanging  on  to  life  with  desperate  pluck,  refusing 
the  little  aid  that  could  be  offered  them,  so  that  no 
fighting  men  need  be  taken  from  the  little  handful  of 
121  that  were  left  us  after  the  day's  work.  679  men 
and  43  officers  of  our  battalion  were  missing  when  we 
"counted  off"  after  the  battle. 

After  the  battle,  do  I  say?    But  there  was  no  after. 

The  enemy  was  searching  us  with  his  guns,  trying  to 
organize  resistance  all  about  us.  Still  we  hung  on, 
and  by  some  miracle  of  modern  times,  food  reached  us 
before  dark  set  in. 

Against  a  strong  attack  promptly  made  and  pushed 
home  regardless  of  cost,  we  should  have  been  practi- 
cally helpless,  for  we  had  with  us  then  but  three  ma- 
chine guns,  two  automatic  rifles  and  of  course  the 
soldiers'  rifles. 

There  were  three  of  us  officers  upon  whom  the  com- 
mand had  now  devolved.  Captain  Foley,  of  Fort 
Leavenworth,  Kansas ;  Lieutenant  Parkhurst,  of  New 
London,  a  son  of  Colonel  Parkhurst,  and  myself.  But 
Ave  had  all  the  help  we  needed  from  those  splendid 
men  still  left  us.    I  can  never  do  them  justice. 

As  the  night  drew  on,  we  heard  much  noise  to  our 
left,  and  Captain  Foley  ordered  me  to  take  out  a  pat- 
rol and  find  out  what  was  going  on.  I  took  with  me 
Sergeant  Carroll,  of  Whitestone. 

"Go  in  from  the  right,  Sergeant,"  I  directed,  "and 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  81 

I'll  go  in  from  the  left.  We'll  circle  towards  each 
other,  and  try  and  get  a  few  prisoners." 

"Leave  it  to  me,"  said  Carroll,  "I  can  talk  German ; 
I  used  to  work  in  College  Point." 

His  words  brought  a  laugh  from  us.  Then  each  of 
us  with  our  parties,  struck  for  our  destination.  Soon 
I  heard  Carroll  yell  and  went  to  his  aid  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible. When  I  came  up  to  his  party,  I  found  they  had 
three  German  prisoners  covered  with  their  rifles.  Car- 
roll was  calling  to  these  prisoners  in  his  College  Point 
German,  "Handy  Ho !  Handy  Ho !"  meaning  of  course 
"hands  up !" 

I  went  through  the  prisoners  and  took  their  "stuff," 
then  we  brought  them  in  and  questioned  them.  We 
learned  that  there  was  a  ravine  off  just  beyond,  where 
some  400  more  of  them  were  digging  in  and  prepar- 
ing positions. 

After  obtaining  this  information,  I  went  back  and 
looked  their  position  over,  while  some  of  the  other 
men  scouted  all  night  for  water. 

The  German  position  was  too  strong  for  us  to  at- 
tack. On  the  farther  bank  of  the  ravine  they  had  es- 
tablished machine  gun  nests  and  an  officers'  dug  out; 
the  bottom  of  the  ravine  was  filled  with  infantry.  I 
was  able  to  map  the  entire  position,  and  locate  each 
machine  gun  before  the  Morrocans  came  up  in  the 
morning. 

After  figuring  the  ranges  exactly,  the  Morrocans 
opened  up  a  machine  gun  barrage  on  the  position  and 
cleaned  out  the  whole  lot  without  a  single  casualty  to 
the  Morrocans. 

For  this,  and  my  conduct  in  the  engagement,  I  was 
cited. 

But  all  the  credit  and  the  glory  should  go  to  the 
men  in  the  ranks,  who,  with  almost  all  their  officers 
killed  and  wounded,  fought  it  out  to  a  successful  fin- 
ish, and  carried  on  again  the  next  day. 

In  the  fighting  around  St.  Mihiel  I  was  wounded  in 
both  legs  and  in  the  back,  having  twenty-one  inches 
of  wounds. 


HYMAN  ZUCKER 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 83 

II. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private  Hyman  Zucker 

Enlisted  Regular  Army,  June,  1917.  Overseas,  October, 
1917,  with  Battery  E,  17th  Field  Artillery,  2nd  Division.  Cha- 
teau -Thicrry-Belleau  Wood.  Wounded  severely.  Received 
D.   S.   C. 

His  Own  Story 

Patriotism,  and  a  longing  to  do  my  bit  for  my  coun- 
try, prompted  me  to  enlist  in  the  service  on  June  28th, 
1917,  at  Fort  Slocum. 

Six  days  later  I  was  sent  to  Camp  Robinson,  Wis- 
consin, and  placed  in  the  Seventeenth  Field  Artillery. 
After  five  months  of  training,  they  shipped  me  to  New- 
port News,  and  from  there  I  left  for  overseas  October, 
1917,  aboard  the  Adriatic. 

We  landed  at  Brest  and  went  to  Chamillon,  where 
we  received  French  guns,  155  millimeters. 

About  three  months  later,  we  participated  in  the 
drive  at  Belleau  Wood,  and  then  at  the  Marne,  where 
we  supported  the  Ninth  and  Twenty-third  Infantry. 

Right  there  at  the  Marne,  occurred  the  most 
important  event  of  my  life,  at  least  as  far  as  my  career 
in  this  war  is  concerned. 

An  ammunition  dump  was  on  fire,  threatening  the 
immediate  destruction  of  everything  about  the  place. 
The  officers  called  for  volunteers  to  put  out  the  fire. 
They  wanted  only  the  shortest  men ;  so,  with  six  other 
men,  I  volunteered  to  extinguish  the  flames.  In  half 
an  hour  we  accomplished  the  task. 

For  this  act  of  bravery,  I  was  awarded  the  Dis- 
tinguished Service  Cross. 

While  we  had  been  thus  engaged,  our  battery  had 
shifted.      We    were    seven   days    and    nights    gettting 


84  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

back  to  our  battery.  Meanwhile  we  were  sure  out 
of  luck  as  we  had  only  our  emergency  rations.  Fin- 
ally, we  met  our  battery  at  Cotterets.  There  I  was 
in  action  three  days  while  we  were  supporting  the 
Ninth  and  Twenty-third  Infantry,  and  the  Fifth  and 
Sixth  Marines. 

At  six  in  the  morning  of  July  18th,  there  was  a  sud- 
den burst  of  shell  and  my  legs  were  filled  with  shrap- 
nel. I  wonder  if  you  realize  what  shrapnel  does  to  a 
fellow?  A  bullet  is  a  merciful  thing  because  it  makes 
a  clean  wound  and  the  doctors  have  a  chance  to  re- 
move it.  But  shrapnel  just  splinters  its  way  all 
through  you  and  the  doctors  have  to  cut  away  great 
pieces  of  flesh  around  the  wound. 

I  was  sent  to  a  base  hospital  in  Lorraine,  where  I 
remained  till  December. 

On  December  13th,  we  left  on  the  Mauretania  for 
the  good  old  U.  S.  A. 

Back  in  the  States  once  more.  I  went  to  General 
Hospital  No.  9,  at  Lake  wood,  N.  J.,  where  I  remained 
until  early  in  March. 

On  April  1st  I  was  honorably  discharged. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 85 

III. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Sergeant  Ray  Smith 

Bom  in  Camden.  N.  J.  Enlisted  August  31,  1917.  Overseas 
in  November.  Assigned  Machine  Gun  Company,  28th  Infan- 
try, First  Division.  Wounded  at  Cantigny  and  in  Soissons 
offensive. 

His  Own  Story 

The  Twenty-eighth  Infantry,  in  which  I  was  a  sol- 
dier, was  assigned  to  the  First  Division.  This  Divi- 
sion was  composed  entirely  of  the  so-called  "regular" 
regiments,  but  its  ranks  were  filled  with  chaps  like  my- 
self who  sure  were  amateurs  at  the  military  game.  We 
quickly  found  ourselves  thrilled  by  contact  with  the 
veterans  of  the  regiment,  and  soon  gave  ourselves  all 
the  airs  which  the  professional  soldier  does  not  af- 
fect. 

We  were  the  first  troops  of  our  army  to  get  the 
training  at  the  front,  so  it  happened  that  while  the 
Second  Division  was  still  in  training,  we  were  drawing 
first  blood  from  the  Hun  for  our  own  army. 

On  April  27,  we  took  over  the  so-called  "Cantigny 
sector." 

At  that  time,  trench  warfare  conditions  prevailed 
in  that  sector,  and  the  position  was  relatively  quiet. 
The  French  and  Germans  exchanged  a  few  shell  each 
day,  and  there  was  an  occasional  raid. 

When  we  took  over,  things  immediately  livened  up. 
But  the  Hun  was  given  no  time  to  make  any  new  dis- 
positions before  we  were  up  and  at  him. 

On  the  27th,  our  Fifth,  Sixth  and  Seventh  Artillery 
cut  loose  with  their  famous  million  dollar  barrage, 
pounding  the  German  positions  with  shell  of  every  de- 
scription.     As    I    listened    to    the    guns    open   up,    it 


86  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

brought  me  back  to  the  early  days  of  my  youth,  when 
I  was  a  copy  boy  on  the  Philadelphia  North  American, 

and  the  presses  would  begin  their  run  with  a  roar  that, 
in  those  days,  seemed  like  sonic  sound. 

"There  goes  the  special  extra  edition1"  I  remarked 
to  one  of  the  boys,  and  I'll  say  the  I  Inn  thought  it  was 
a  "special  extra"  right  enough. 

On  the  28th,  the  Twenty-eighth  "went  over  the  top." 
The  first  American  offensive  was  on. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  our  men  as  they  moved 
on  toward  the  German  positions.  We  marched 
behind  the  cover  of  our  own  barrage.  We  were  con- 
scious of  course,  that  the  eyes  of  the  world  were  on  us, 
and  for  that,  though  our  stomachs  felt  like  jelly,  we 
held  our  heads  high,  chins  in,  and  dressed  the  lines  as 
though  for  parade. 

We  were,  if  anything,  just  a  little  too  unconscious 
of  the  men  who  fell,  and  the  bullets  that  tore  by,  the 
shell  that  burst  among  us.  It  was  deadly  serious. 
Later  on,  we  got  to  where  wre  could  go  in  with  a  smile, 
a  laugh,  and  a  cigarette.    But  not  then. 

We  couldn't  forget  for  a  minute,  the  past  history  of 
our  country,  and  we  were  concerned  over  living  up  to 
what  the  world  had  been  told  about  the  Americans. 

We  had  French  baby  tanks  to  lead  us  in,  and  they 
manouvered  about  the  fields  like  nothing  in  the  world 
so  much  as  the  trained  seals  in  the  circus.  Some  cir- 
cus it  was,  for  we  took  the  blamed  old  place  in  just  55 
minutes,  and  there  never  was  any  question  but  that 
we  had  it. 

Fritz  did  not  want  us  to  get  away  with  it.  It  was 
giving  us  too  much  prestige  in  the  eyes  of  his  own 
troops.  There  were  several  counter  attacks,  and  some 
heavy  shelling  but  "nothing  doing." 

I  was  a  machine  gunner,  as  I  believe  I  have  already 
said.  Those  little  old  machine  guns  of  ours  were  just 
naturally  starving  for  some  real  action.  They  got  it 
when  the  Hun  reacted.  We  fed  the  guns  Germans 
till  they  grew  white  hot  with  the  murder. 

But  we  had  to  have  food  and  water,  and  the  Jerries 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 87 

kept  all  the  back  areas  under  continual  fire.     No  get- 
ting anything  up  to  us,  except  by  volunteers. 

I  was  given  charge  of  one  of  these  volunteer  carry- 
ing parties.  We  had  learned  in  our  first  trench  train- 
ing, to  time  shell  bursts,  so  by  close  work  and  quick 
moving,  our  party  got  back  to  the  kitchens  and  loaded 
up. 

There  were  some  of  our  boys  back  there  who  had  not 
gone  in  with  us  when  we  went  "over  the  top,"  and 
they  were  just  wild  for  a  chance  to  get  up  to  the  lines. 
I  got  twelve  additions  to  my  party  right  there. 

As  my  own  party  had  enough  food  for  the  troops, 
I  had  the  new  men  pack  water.  For  fighting  is  the 
dryest  business  in  the  world. 

It  was  still  quite  light  when  we  started  back.  The 
Hun  spotted  us ;  I  daresay  we  looked  like  re-enforce- 
ments. But  he  let  us  get  a  good  start,  then  put  a  bar- 
rage on  us. 

I  had  told  the  men,  if  we  came  under  heavy  fire,  to 
take  cover  in  shell  holes  and  lie  doggo  until  the  "straf " 
was  over. 

We  kept  working  our  way  along,  but  when  we  had 
five  men  wounded,  although  slightly,  and  the  barrage 
still  burst  about  us,  I  called  to  the  men  to  take  cover. 
They  did  it  very  cheerfully. 

After  a  while  the  Hun  gave  it  up.  Ordering  the  men 
forward,  I  stopped  to  count  my  party  and  found  I  was 
one  man  short.  My  attention  was  attracted  to  an  old 
well  near  some  ruined  buildings.  Looking  into  the 
well,  I  saw  at  the  bottom  a  little  Irishman,  my  missing 
man.  In  the  excitement  of  taking  cover  the  fellow  had 
jumped  into  the  well,  which  fortunately  was  quite  dry. 
There  was  about  the  sides  and  bottom,  however,  a 
heavy  green  scum.  Calling  a  couple  of  the  water  car- 
riers and  uniting  our  efforts,  we  finally  succeeded  in 
getting  the  man  to  the  top. 

A  fine  looking  Irisher  he  was,  coated  green  from 
head  to  toe,  and  spittng  the  filthy  stuff*  out  of  his 
mouth. 


88  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

"For  God's  sake,  what  were  you  doing  down  there?" 
I  demanded. 

"Faith,  Sarg,  you  said  to  get  into  a  hole,  and  that 
was  the  damndest,  biggest  hole  I  could  find." 

Well,  we  all  had  our  laugh,  and  the  rest  of  the  way 
back  to  our  lines  was  made  easier  for  the  joke.  Sol- 
diers need  to  laugh  and  ease  the  nervous  strain. 

Shortly  after  that,  I  was  wounded  under  the  right 
arm,  but  the  Red  Cross  and  our  surgeons  pulled  me 
together,  so  I  was  back  with  the  boys  for  the  grand 
old  row  at  Soissons. 

During  that  muss,  while  reconoitering  a  machine  gun 
nest,  I  stumbled  into  a  shell  hole  and  found  a  live  Ger- 
man there  ahead  of  me.  He  went  for  me  with  his  bay- 
onet, but  the  "ring"  was  too  small  for  him.  At  that,  I 
got  the  tip  of  his  bayonet  in  the  fleshy  part  of  my  left 
leg.  Before  he  could  get  the  bayonet  loose,  I  clipped 
him  a  stiff  jolt  on  the  jaw,  and  out  he  went.  I  grabbed 
my  automatic  and  finished  him  off. 

Some  time  later,  I  was  in  charge  of  a  temporary  hos- 
pital just  back  of  the  lines.  We  had  many  French  and 
American  wounded  and  1  was,  myself,  just  getting 
around  from  another  nasty  bite  the  Hun  had  taken  out 
of  my  hide. 

Some  movements  were  on,  and  for  the  time  being, 
the  Allied  line  before  the  place  was  being  withdrawn. 
We  had  quick  orders  to  evacuate  the  wounded.  By 
sticking  to  it  till  the  last  minute,  and  going  back  with 
the  troops,  we  got  every  one  of  the  wounded  out. 

I  wish  I  had  the  gift  of  writing  so  I  could  put  be- 
fore you,  in  words  that  would  make  you  see  it,  the 
courage  and  grit  of  our  boys. 

In  justice  to  them  I  must  at  least  try. 

The  first  night  of  the  Soissons  drive,  one  of  our 
men  developed  shell  shock.  He  jumped  to  his  feet 
and  began  to  lunge  about  him  with  his  fixed  bayonet, 
swinging  his  musket  in  the  dreadful  "butts  manual." 

I  called  to  the  men  to  see  what  could  be  done  to  trip 
him  or  disarm  him,  but  he  fought  with  the  ferocity  and 
wile  of  the  maniac.     Presently  he  cornered  a  boy,  and 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 89 

the  lad  shot  him.  It  was  a  snap  shot  from  the  hip, 
and  all  the  boy  meant  to  do  was  to  wing  his  comrade 
in  the  right  arm.  The  bullet  struck  the  poor  fellow, 
who  had  gone  crazy,  in  the  right  side,  landing  flat  and 
glancing  along  a  rib,  tore  a  hole  in  the  right  side  that 
live  emergency  bandages  went  into. 

There  was  no  way  to  get  the  man  to  the  rear.  Be- 
hind us  were  eight  miles  of  ground  carpeted  with  our 
wounded  and  dying  men,  whose  cries  for  water  and 
troubled  moaning  made  the  night  hideous. 

All  night  long,  the  wounded  boy  lay  among  us,  re- 
covered from  his  madness,  and  never  complaining  of 
his  wound. 

In  the  morning,  we  had  to  have  a  messenger  to  take 
some  reports  back  to  headquarters.  This  boy  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  go. 

I  can  see  him  now,  leaning  against  a  tree,  his  face 
haggard  and  ghastly  beneath,  the  sunburn,  his  eyes 
burning  with  fever  as  he  pleaded  with  the  Captain. 

"I  can't  go  on  with  the  boys.  Let  me  take  it  back. 
It'll  save  you  a  whole  man,  and  you  need  them." 

The  Captain's  lips  were  quivering.  He  swallowed 
hard  before  he  spoke. 

"All  right,  old  man,  and  good  luck  to  you."  The 
papers  were  passed  over  and  we  saw  the  poor  devil 
pass  out  of  sight  among  the  trees. 

The  message  was  delivered. 

Eight  miles  that  boy  walked,  a  hole  in  his  right 
side  you  could  put  both  fists  into. 

Xeed  I  add,  that  he  died  before  they  could  give  him 
attention. 

My  mind  is  a  reel  of  thousands  of  just  such  scenes. 
So  is  that  of  every  lad  who  went  over.  And  that's  why 
we  don't  like  to  think  or  talk  about  the  war.  We  can't 
forget  those  splendid  fellows  still  over  there. 


90  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

IV. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private  Charles  C.  Weise 

Born  in  Toronto,  Canada.  Served  in  the  United  States 
Army  27  years.  Service  in  Spanish  War,  First  Island  Insur- 
rection, China  and  Mexico.  Overseas  February,  1918,  with 
Coast  Artillery.  Made  dispatch  rider.  Wounded  again  and 
again. 

His  Own  Story 

I  was  born  in  Toronto,  Canada,  and  came  to  the 
United  States  as  soon  as  I  could.  Without  a  trade, 
the  army  seemed  to  offer  about  the  best  berth  at  the 
time,  so  I  enlisted.  I  like  the  life,  and  after  twenty- 
seven  years  with  "our  colors,"  you  still  see  me  with  my 
uniform  on. 

In  the  war  with  Spain,  I  missed  out  on  Cuba,  be- 
cause my  regiment,  the  Twenty-first  Infanty,  sailed  for 
the  Philippines  on  May  4,  1898.  We  had  hot  fighting, 
and  mean  fighting  over  there.  And  we  were  still  row- 
ing it  with  our  "little  brown  brothers,"  when  the 
Chinks  started  something,  and  to  China  we  went. 

Believe  me,  Brother,  there  was  a  real  fight  in 
China,  and  many's  the  time  the  whole  expedition  came 
mighty  close  to  disaster.  I  had  my  first  real  close, 
honest-to-God  acquaintance  with  German  soldiers 
then,  and  ever  since,  ached  to  get  one  over  my  sights. 

In  China,  I  was  with  the  Fifth  Field  Artillery. 
Folks  most  generally  know  it  as  Riley's  Battery.  And 
you  never  had  no  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  us. 

Our  men  stood  up  over  there.  We  had  about  the 
best  there  was  along.  Marines,  and  the  Ninth  In- 
fantry, our  battery,  and  some  other  good  fighters. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 91 

I  met  a  Schenectady  man  on  that  campaign  by  the 
name  of  Duncan  Juno.  Let  me  tell  you  he  was  just 
about  the  best  soldier  I  ever  knew  in  my  life.  Brave, 
and  cool,  and  handsome,  and  knowing  the  soldiering 
game.  I  reckon  if  he  had  lived,  you'd  heard  of  him 
in  France.  But  he  "went  west"  along  after  the  Mexi- 
can campaign,  where  they  chewed  him  up  considerable. 

I  enlisted  in  the  coast  artillery,  having  just  been  dis- 
charged, when  the  United  States  made  up  its  mind  to 
take  a  hand  in  Europe.  When  I  arrived  in  France 
in  February,  1918,  they  made  me  a  dispatch  rider. 

That's  one  of  the  best  jobs  in  the  war.  You  are  in 
the  war  all  the  time.  You  hear  all  the  rumors  at  the 
rear,  and  see  all  the  war  at  the  front. 

Every  little  while,  the  fellows  doing  the  fighting  get 
tired  of  shooting  up  each  other  and  want  to  hang  out 
their  wash  or  do  some  chores,  so  then  they  turn  loose 
on  the  roads  and  areas  in  the  rear.  Dispatch  riders, 
they  just  naturally  practice  sharpshooting  on,  with  the 
biggest  guns  they  have. 

When  the  boys  started  after  the  Germans  up  at  St. 
Mihiel,  I  was  carrying  dispatches  on  my  motorcycle 
from  Headquarters  to  the  front.  The  road  was  filled 
with  holes  where  the  heavies  had  torn  things  up.  It 
was  greasy  from  the  rain,  and  it  was  under  H.  E.  and 
shrapnel  fire.     Some  interesting,  that  ride  was. 

I  was  making  bets  with  myself  all  the  way  up,  and 
had  won  a  year's  pay  from  myself,  when  smash ! — 

I  came  to  in  the  ditch.  My  face  was  all  sticky.  I 
went  to  rub  the  mud  away  with  a  hand,  but  it  was 
blood. 

For  a  moment  I  felt  queer,  then  braced  up  and  set 
to  exploring.  What  I  found  cheered  me  greatly.  My 
wound  was  more  ornamental  than  useful  to  the  Huns. 
A  shrapnel  splinter  had  sliced  open  my  forehead,  but 
some  mud  and  my  emergency  bandage  fixed  that  up. 
But  the  darned  old  machine  was  junk.  No  "emergency" 
would  fix  that. 

I  was  a  long  way  from  anywhere,  with  some  place 
important  to  go. 


92  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Well,  the  hooting  was  good,  so  I  hit  the  trail.  It 
was  slow  but  certain,  and  1  had  a  better  chance  to 
duck  the  shell.  As  I  approached  the  front,  it  got  some 
unhealthy.  The  Germans  had  been  putting  over  gas, 
and  were  pounding  away  with  everything  they  had, 
along  a  stretch  of  country  about  two  kilometers  from 
my  destination.  I  hung  out  in  a  crater  for  two  hours, 
then  hustled  along  and  turned  in  my  dispatches. 

They  do  a  powerful  lot  of  writing  in  the  army,  for 
men  who  are  busy  fighting,  and  they  had  more  stuff 
to  go  back  to  G.  H.  Q.  They  produced  a  new  motor 
cycle  from  a  dug-out,  and  sent  me  on  my  way.  It 
wasn't  so  bad  going  back,  at  first,  but  I  guess  the  Huns 
must  have  thought  about  me  presently,  for  they  began 
gunning  for  me  with  big  ones  as  I  drew  near  Verdun. 

I  figured  that  having  got  it  once  that  day,  I  was 
immune.  But  I  guessed  wrong.  A  big  one  blew  up 
at  the  side  of  the  road.  One  piece  of  shell  sliced  off 
the  handle  bar,  and  I  got  a  bullet  in  my  left  leg,  but  the 
machine  was  still  running,  never  skipped  at  all,  so  I 
sat  tight  and  slid  into  G.  H.  Q. 

They  gave  me  a  few  days'  rest  after  that,  while  the 
doctors  fussed  around  with  me,  and  the  Red  Cross  sup- 
plied me  with  smoking. 

Luck  was  against  me.  No  more  had  I  returned  to 
duty,  when  I  had  both  hands  and  forearms  burnt  with 
mustard  gas.  The  scars  of  that  will  stay  with  me  all 
the  rest  of  my  life.  If  ever  a  Hun  wants  to  shake 
hands  with  me,  I  reckon  I'll  see  those  marks,  and  not 
forget  his  dirty  tricks. 

You  see,  after  I  was  burned  with  the  gas  and  they 
had  me  in  the  hospital,  along  came  some  German  planes 
and  bombed  the  hospital,  blowing  the  roof  and  the 
sides  out.  Those  of  us  who  survived  that,  they  tried 
to  machine  gun. 

A  Red  Cross  nurse  got  it  there.  And  I  tell  you. 
that  hurts  a  fighting  man. 

Well,  the  army  people  figured  what  was  left  of  us 
they'd  take  good  care  of,  so  they  shipped  us  clear  back 
to  a  small  city,  either  it  was  in  Champagne  or  was 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 93 

called  Champagne.  I  don't  recall,  and  it  doesn't 
matter. 

We  weren't  any  more  than  tucked  away  in  bed,  be- 
fore the  Hun  planes  hunted  us  up  and  bombed  us 
again.     Nearly  every  one  in  the  hospital  was  killed. 

When  I  was  finally  returned  to  duty,  you  can  figure 
it  out  for  yourself,  I  was  some  sore  on  the  Hun,  and 
had  a  hell  of  a  grudge  against  his  fliers. 

My  first  job  was  to  take  Lieutenant  Hatton,  of  the 
Forty-fourth  Artillery,  up  to  the  front.  I  had  him  in 
a  side  car  and  we  had  just  got  nicely  started,  when 
those  birds  of  ill  omen  turned  up  again,  and  flying 
low,  machine-gunned  us,  wounding  the  Lieutenant 
twice,  though  I  escaped  unhurt. 

That  settled  me  with  the  dispatcher  business.  I 
reckoned  that  being  a  regular  and  a  fighting  man,  I  was 
entitled  to  kill  a  few  Huns  on  my  own  account,  so  I 
hunted  up  the  General  and  told  him  so. 

He  agreed  with  me.  They  gave  me  an  eight-inch 
howitzer  to  do  it  with.  We  were  in  position  near 
Dannemaire,  about  four  kilos  from  the  Swiss  border. 
The  Germans  put  our  position  under  heavy  shell  fire, 
and  socked  some  gas  shell  along  with  the  others. 

When  they  figured  we  were  all  dead  or  in  our  holes, 
they  came  goose-stepping  out  in  columns  to  finish  the 
job. 

I  was  just  waiting  for  that.  Had  been  hanging 
around  the  old  howitzer  all  the  time,  and  I  can  shoot 
one  of  those  guns  like  a  marine  does  a  rifle.  Just  as 
I  was  about  to  heave  on  the  lanyard,  a  shell  burst  on 
one  of  our  posts  and  I  saw  sixteen  of  our  boys  smashed 
to  nothing. 

I  sure  did  lay  that  old  howitzer  on  the  target  with  a 
vengeance.  And  when  she  began  to  dribble  death,  I 
had  her  coughing  like  a  machine  gun. 

They  said  I  broke  up  the  attack  myself,  and  they 
gave  me  a  citation. 

Well,  that's  nice ;  but  I  wasn't  thinking  about  any- 


94  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

thing  but  that  Red  (  toss  nurse  they'd  killed  back  there 
in  our  hospital,  and  the  boys  I  saw  killed  as  I  put  my 
hand  to  the  gun. 

Some  one  said  to  me  the  other  day :  "I  suppose 
these  young  veterans  of  ours  must  look  very  amusing 
to  you." 

"Amusing  to  me,  sir,"  I  replied.  "I've  been  breaking 
my  neck  to  keep  step  with  'em  and  live  up  to  the  ex- 
ample they  set." 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  95 


AMERICAN  LEGION 

Headquarters  Temporary  Committee 

19  West  44th  Street 
New  York  City 

May  15,  1919. 
Soldier's  Publishing  Company, 
1482  Broadway,  N.  Y.  C. 

Gentlemen : 

Thank  you  for  your  letter.  It  is  a  great  satisfaction 
to  hear  what  a  number  of  young  men  have  spoken 
concerning  my  father.  There  is  no  question  but  that 
the  war  work  did  them  good.  The  Americanizing 
and  democratizing  effective  in  the  service  was  notice- 
able throughout.  This  is  not  simply  my  own  indi- 
vidual observation  but  has  been  borne  out  by  countless 
men  whom  I  have  met  during  the  last  month  and  a 
half.  They  all  tell  the  same  thing,  that  the  love  of 
the  men  for  their  country  has  been  deepened,  that 
their  sense  of  real  democracy  has  been  sharpened  and 
steadied  and  that  insofar  as  any  possible  bad  effect 
goes,  the  men  are  more  than  ever  ready  and  determined 
to  see  order  and  fair  play  for  all. 

Very  truly  yours, 
TR:DH  Theodore  Roosevelt. 


PRIVATE  ROY  MILLER 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  97 

V. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private  Roy  Miller 

Bom  in  Texas.  Enlisted  Fort  Sam  Houston,  Texas,  May 
17,  1917.  Overseas  June,  1917.  In  action  with  the  First  Divi- 
sion at  Chateau  Thierry,  Soissons,  etc.     Gassed. 

His  Own  Story 

I  enlisted  at  Fort  Sam  Houston,  Texas,  on  May  17th, 
1917.  I  stayed  here  until  June  19th  when  we  started 
preparations  to  leave  for  France.  We  finally  left  on 
June  26th  on  board  the  "Pastories." 

When  we  were  out  at  sea  a  few  days,  we  sighted  a 
submarine  and  destroyed  it  before  it  got  a  chance  to 
do  any  work. 

Landing  safely  at  St.  Nazaire  on  July  12th,  1917, 
we  trained  there  for  about  two  months  and  then 
were  sent  to  Valdahon,  France. 

Here  we  remained  until  October  27th,  and  went  into 
action  on  the  29th.  This  was  at  the  Somerville  sec- 
tor, ten  kilos  northwest  of  Nancy.  This  was  a  quiet 
sector,  used  as  a  try-out,  to  see  how  we  would  act  on 
the  battlefield. 

We  were  here  for  six  weeks,  doing  very  little  fight- 
ing, never  making  any  attacks.  We  remained  here 
from  October  29th  until  December  15th,  when  we 
were  sent  to  the  Alsace-Lorraine  front.  Here  we  made 
four  big  drives,  and  the  division  captured  thousands  of 
prisoners. 

We  left  this  front  on  March  27th,  and  got  to  the 
Somme  front  on  April  5th.  I  was  then  a  gunner  on  a 
three-inch  field  piece,  and  was  sent  for  duty  to  the 
second  line  trenches.  On  Sunday  morning,  April  7th, 
a  little  before  daybreak,  a  German  tank  came  "over 


98 ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

the  top"  and  I  fired  three  shots  at  it,  and  the  second 
shot  tore  it  to  pieces. 

Sent  from  the  Somme  front  to  Verdun  on  May 
18th.  On  the  21st  of  the  same  month,  we  delivered  a 
barrage,  and  captured  800  prisoners  on  that  one  night. 
We  then  went  to  Chateau-Thierry  on  June  9th  to 
take  up  the  position  that  the  French  had  held,  and 
were  unable  to  hold  any  longer. 

On  June  11th,  I  was  gassed  with  mustard  gas  at 
Chateau-Thierry.  I  was  burned  all  over,  and  all  my 
hair  came  off ;  I  was  bald,  smooth. 

It  was  ten  days  before  I  could  be  taken  to  a  hos- 
pital for  treatment,  and  therefore  lay  in  a  dug-out 
twenty-four  feet  deep,  covered  with  lard,  to  keep  me 
from  burning.  On  June  28th  I  received  two  shots  in 
my  legs,  and  was  completely  paralyzed.  I  was  taken 
back  of  the  lines  to  a  field  hospital  for  treatment. 

On  July  4th,  my  ear  drum  (left  ear)  was  broken  by 
shell  concussion,  and  I  cannot  hear  through  it  since. 

I  was  then  sent  to  the  Argonne,  where  I  stayed  for 
three  days,  and  then  had  to  be  sent  to  a  hospital  on 
account  of  my  feet,  being  broken.  They  had  been  in 
this  condition  before,  due  to  wading  in  so  much  water, 
and  being  exposed  to  all  the  mud  and  slush  for  such 
a  length  of  time,  without  shoes,  only  rubber  boots. 

I  was  kept  in  the  hospital  from  July  12th  to  De- 
cember 28th,  and  sailed  from  St.  Nazaire  back  to  the 
good  old  U.  S.  A. 

It  was  a  trip  of  twelve  days  and  we  landed  at  New- 
port News  on  January  9th,  from  where  I  was  sent  to 
Richmond,  Va.,  and  then  to  Camp  Meade,  Md.  I  was 
honorably  discharged  on  February  28th. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE      99 

VI. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Sergeant  Spiras  Thomas 

Born  in  Greece,  February,  1888.  Enlisted  in  69th,  N.  Y ., 
April  3,  1916.  Rainbow  Division.  Service  overseas  Cham- 
pagne, Chateau-Thierry  Sector,  St.  Mihiel  and  Argonne  For- 
est.   Awarded  D.  S.  C.  and  Croix  de  Guerre. 

His  Own  Story 

Born  in  Greece  on  February  12th,  1888.  Enlisted 
in  the  U.  S.  Army  on  April  3rd,  1916,  in  New  York 
City.  Was  sent  to  Camp  Whitman,  and  then  to  a  camp 
in  Texas,  and  later,  back  to  New  York. 

On  October  26th,  1917,  left  for  overseas  on  board 
the  "Tasconia."  Not  much  excitement  going  over, 
and  after  a  trip  of  two  weeks,  landed  at  Liverpool. 
From  there  we  went  to  Southampton,  and  then  to 
France  on  November  10th. 

We  went  to  a  training  camp,  and  after  six  weeks 
of  training,  we  went  to  the  Lorraine  sector.  We  re- 
mained here  for  three  weeks,  and  were  then  relieved 
by  another  battalion,  and  we  then  went  to  the  Baccarat 
sector.  We  were  in  the  trenches  about  three  weeks. 
We  left  here  on  June  21st. 

On  July  14th,  we  got  to  the  Champagne  sector. 
There  was  heavy  fighting  here,  and  we  were  instructed 
by  our  commander  to  fight  to  the  end.  The  Kaiser 
watched  this  offensive.  The  enemy  started  bombard- 
ing about  twelve  o'clock,  and  kept  it  up  continually 
for  eleven  hours.  They  tried  to  get  through  several 
times,  but  the  Americans  and  French  held  the  lines, 
until  finally  the  Boche  stopped.  There  were  heavy 
losses,  and  many  prisoners  taken  by  us. 


LOO         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 


Three  days  later,  we  went  to  Chateau-Thierry, 
about  July  26th.  We  were  ordered  to  relieve  the 
French,  and  on  the  27th,  we  started  to  chase  the  Huns. 
The  next  day  we  advanced  eight  kilometers  (5  miles). 
We  took  a  strong  point  fortified  by  the  Germans,  with 
a  lot  of  machine  guns. 

We  kept  on  going,  four  days,  five,  until  the  eighth 
day,  when  we  were  relieved  by  the  First  Division, 
which  was  in  reserve  for  a  week.  From  there  we  went 
for  a  rest,  and  stopped  about  twelve  kilos  back  from 
Chateau-Thierry-.  We  received  twenty-four-hour 
passes  to  visit  Paris.  Some  of  the  boys  took  forty- 
eight  hours  off,  and  were  therefore  A.W.O.L.,  and 
when  they  returned  the  regiment  had  moved,  but  they 
caught  up  later. 

We  were  then  ordered  to  go  to  the  St.  Mihiel  sec- 
tor. We  hiked  day  and  night  until  we  got  there.  The 
drive  started  on  September  11th.  There  was  a  con- 
siderable loss.  WTe  were  relieved  and  went  to  the 
Argonne  forest.  This  was  about  the  10th  or  11th 
of  October.  We  stayed  in  reserve  behind  the  lines. 
On  October  14th,  we  started  an  attack,  and  advanced 
about  a  mile  and  a  half.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days 
fighting,  the  casualties  became  so  great,  that  the  offi- 
cers of  my  company  were  included  in  the  number,  and 
I,  therefore,  took  command  of  the  company.  I  led  the 
advance,  until  relieved  by  the  second  battalion. 

For  this  I  was  awarded  a  D.  S.  C.  by  General  Flag- 
ler, at  Zin  Zin,  Germany,  on  December  23rd,   1918. 

We  then  went  to  a  small  sector,  which  we  held  for 
two  weeks,  until  relieved  by  the  Marines. 

When  the  Marines  came,  the  barrage  was  so  thick, 
that  the  enemy  had  to  run  or  become  prisoners,  mak- 
ing this  the  easiest  advance  at  St.  Mihiel. 

On  October  1st,  we  were  ordered  to  leave,  and  hiked 
about  fifteen  kilos.  On  November  5th,  we  went  "over 
the  top"  again,  and  the  first  day  it  was  coming  pretty 
fast.  The  next  day,  the  Third  Battalion  went  on.  The 
third  day,  we  were  relieved  by  the  French,  and  then 
we  hiked  back  to  Bvszancv. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  101 

It  was  then  we  heard  that  the  armistice  was  signed. 

The  next  day  we  hiked  to  Landres-Et-St.  George, 
stayed  there  three  days  and  were  then  ordered  to  go 
to  Germany  with  the  Army  of  Occupation.  I  stayed 
there  until  March  21st,  1919,  when  I  returned  to 
the  U.  S.  A. 

On  March  23rd,  1918,  was  awarded  a  Croix-de- 
Guerre  by  a  French  General  for  bravery. 


PRIVATE  IRVING  ABRAHAMS 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  103 

VII. 
THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private  Irving  Abrahams 

Born  in  New  York  City,  still  resides  there.  Entered  Na- 
tional Army  September  17,  1917.  Overseas  October,  1917. 
Assigned  Company  B,  23rd  Infantry,  Regulars.  Fought  at 
Chateau-Thierry  salient  and  was  zvounded  July  18,  1918. 
Returned  to  duty  and  gassed  in  the  Argonne.  Returned  to 
duty  and  zvounded  again  near  Verdun  and  sent  back  to  United 
States  for  discharge. 

His  Own  Story 

I  believe  I  was  one  of  the  first  National  Army  men 
to  fight,  and  fall  wounded  in  France.  And  in  that 
record  I  take  a  just  measure  of  pride.  While  the 
War  was  in  its  first  months  I  stayed  at  work,  for  the 
family  needed  my  help ;  yet  when  I  was  drafted  and 
arrangements  had  been  made  for  the  care  of  my 
people,  I  was  glad  to  put  on  the  uniform  of  my  coun- 
Army training  and  life  really  represented  a  great 
opportunity  to  me.  From  the  time  I  was  a  little  boy, 
I  had  worked  hard  and,  through  necessity,  missed  the 
athletic  training  that  gives  most  American  boys  their 
good  health. 

My  training  was  short  at  Upton  and  Camp  Green, 
for  within  thirty  days  after  I  first  joined  the  colors,  I 
was  on  my  way  to  France,  the  land  of  my  dreams. 

We  landed  at  Brest  and  I  quickly  joined  my  regi- 
ment, the  Twenty-third  Infantry.  I  soon  found  I  was 
among  fighting  men ;  one  of  a  famous  regiment  whose 
pride  in  themselves  and  their  regiment  was  an  inspira- 
tion to  me. 

They  gave  me  the  training  there  I  had  missed  at 
home.  My  stomach  flattened  out,  and  my  chest  broad- 
ened until  I  scarcely  knew  myself. 


101  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

The  winter  months  passed  quickly,  and  in  June  and 
July  the  world  heard  from  the  Twenty-third  Infantry. 

The  fighting  of  the  18th  of  July,  stands  out  in  my 
memory  for  that  was  the  day  I  received  my  first 
wound. 

There  was  a  river  my  outfit  had  to  cross.  Some  of 
us  swam  the  river  under  artillery  and  machine  gun 
fire  to  get  into  position  along  the  bank  where  we  could 
pick  off  the  machine  gunners,  and  so  make  it  easier  for 
the  rest  of  our  men  to  get  over. 

No  matter  how  hard  they  shell  you,  it  does  not  eat 
up  the  men  like  bursts  of  machine  gun  fire  or  gas. 

That  swim  across  the  river  gave  us  a  jolt  in  the 
nerve,  all  right. 

Dripping  with  water,  I  hauled  myself  up  the  bank, 
and  crouching  down  in  some  cover,  soon  had  my  rifle 
going.  The  snap  of  the  shots,  and  the  acrid  smell  of 
the  burning  powder  quieted  my  nervousness. 

Other  men  had  got  across,  and  they,  too,  were  "firing 
at  will."  We  were  not  merely  making  a  racket,  but 
driving  each  shot  home  and  making  the  nests  un- 
healthy for  the  Jerries. 

The  Germans  did  not  just  take  it.  Dropping  their 
fire  at  the  farther  bank,  they  crossed  fire  at  us  fellows 
along  the  bank. 

They  got  me,  too,  almost  at  the  first  of  it,  with  a 
machine  gun  bullet  through  the  leg. 

You  see  I  was  comparatively  new  to  the  shooting 
game,  and  while  I  got  my  head  and  body  covered  all 
right,  I  did  what  so  many  beginners  do  in  shooting. 
Instead  of  keeping  my  feet  on  the  ground,  I  stuck  them 
up,  unconsciously,  and  Jerry  simply  could  not  miss  the 
target. 

I  dropped  down  the  bank  further,  after  I  was  hit, 
adjusted  my  emergency  bandage,  stopping  the  loss  of 
blood,  and  then  crawled  back  to  my  position  to  get 
my  revenge. 

In  the  meantime,  while  the  machine  gun  fire  had 
been  diverted  to  our  bank,  more  of  the  regiment  had 
crossed  the  river.     Our  fire  was  growing,  and  as  is  apt 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  105 

to  be  the  case  when  casualties  increase  under  well  di- 
rected fire,  the  Germans  growing  restive  and  nervous, 
exposed  themselves,  unintentionally. 

I  had  a  fine  shot  at  one  of  them  who  was  at  a  ma- 
chine gun.  They  had  shot  me  through  the  leg,  and  I 
thought  of  the  old  Mosaic  law,  "An  eye  for  an  eye  and 
a  tooth  for  a  tooth."  I  could  not  get  a  shot  at  a  leg, 
so  I  took  a  hand. 

Two  men  I  got  that  way,  one  after  another,  and  the 
machine  gun  stuttered  to  a  stop.  I  had  forgotten  all 
about  my  wounded  leg,  and  when  some  time  later  our 
line  rushed  forward,  I  tried  to  go  along  with  them,  but 
the  leg  would  not  let  me. 

Our  stretcher  bearers  were  right  on  hand,  ignoring 
the  enemy's  fire,  though  it  accounted  for  many  of 
them.  They  picked  me  up,  fixed  up  my  wround  again, 
and  got  me  back  across  the  river  to  a  dressing  station. 

Those  fellows  deserve  a  good  word  and  a  lot  of 
gratitude.  For  I  want  to  tell  you,  if  it  was  not  for  the 
stretcher  bearers  who  went  right  out  and  got  our  boys 
and  brought  them  to  the  dressing  stations,  there  would 
be  more  of  us  sleeping  in  France  than  there  are. 

In  forty-five  days,  my  wound  had  healed  and  I  was 
able  to  rejoin  my  regiment.  In  my  old  company  I  felt 
like  a  stranger,  for  so  many  of  the  old  crowd  had  been 
killed  in  the  bitter  fighting  at  the  time  I  got  mine.  Re- 
placements had  come,  however.  The  ranks  were  full. 
You  know,  no  matter  how  many  men  are  killed,  the 
regiment  does  not  die. 

We  were  presently  fighting  in  the  Argonne  Forest. 
A  gas  mask  was  not  much  protection,  for  it  was  al- 
ways getting  torn  off  in  the  woods,  and  the  Germans, 
knowing  it,  treated  us  liberally  to  gas. 

I  got  a  fine  dose  of  mustard  gas,  and  back  to  the 
hospital  I  went  again.  Despite  all  the  pain,  those  were 
happy,  glorious  days. 

The  Red  Cross,  the  Hebrew  Relief  Service,  and  the 
Salvation  Army  did  all  they  could  to  make  life  endur- 
able for  us.  But  the  days  had  their  dark  side,  too. 
So   many   of   the    fellows   "went   west."     They  went 


106  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

bravely,  too,  without  a  murmur,  smiling  to  the  last, 
thinking  not  at  all  of  themselves,  but  of  their  folks  at 
home,  and  the  boys  still  up  at  the  front. 

Presently,  I  was  able  to  return  to  duty  and  once 
moie  found  myself  among  strangers.  Even  the  offi- 
cers were  new'  to  me,  for  they  had  suffered  as  well  as 
the  men. 

We  were  fighting  near  Verdun,  but  I  saw  little  of 
it,  for  a  German  H.  E.  blew  up  close  to  me,  drenching 
me  with  the  blood  of  my  comrades,  and  wounding  me 
severely.  , 

I  was  in  a  Paris  hospital  when  the  armistice  was 
signed,  and  believe  me,  I  was  some  happy.  I  think 
no  one  can  say  I  was  yellow  because  I  felt  relieved  at 
not  having  to  go  back  into  that  hell  at  the  front  again, 
for  the  record  of  the  regiment  and  the  Division  gives 
the  answer  to  that. 

I  don't  really  feel  that  my  story  is  worth  the  telling, 
for  I  came  back.  But  if,  from  what  I  have  written  of 
my  own  experiences,  people  can  gather  an  idea  of  what 
those  who  died  in  France  went  through  before  their 
great  moment,  in  their  day  of  glory,  then  I  shall  be 
happy. 

We  left  Brest  for  the  good  old  U.  S.  A.  January  10, 
1919,  on  the  "Canada"  and  had  a  fine  trip.  They  cer- 
tainly did  everything  in  the  world  to  make  us  com- 
fortable and  we  needed  no  help  to  be  happy. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  107 

VIII. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Charles  A.  Pettit 

Former  automobile  racing  champion  of  Texas,  born  in 
Winona,  Mo.,  raised  in  Fannin,  Texas.  Forty-two  months' 
service  with  the  British  and  American  armies.  Wounded  28 
times.   Lost  his  leg  while  with  A.  E.  F. 

His  Own  Story 

Yes,  I  joined  the  British  Army  at  the  very  begin- 
ning of  the  muss  in  Europe.  Just  naturally  had  to  go 
and  help  out,  for  I  never  did  like  the  Germans.  And 
out  in  Missouri  they  raise  he-men  with  red  blood  in 
them.     Then,  as  I  said,  I  grew  up  in  Texas. 

Texas  ain't  no  nursery  for  white  feathers. 

We  got  the  kind  of  citizens  down  there  "Teddy" 
was  always  talking  to,  and  quite  a  tolerable  amount 
of  us  went  along  to  Cuba  with  him  and  give  a  good  ac- 
count of  ourselves. 

I  had  some  good  training  with  the  British,  and  I 
seen  all  the  red  blooded  men  in  the  world,  I  guess.  I 
was  at  Gallipoli  when  the  Australians  was  there.  They 
sure  did  make  me  feel  like  I  was  with  home  folks. 
They  look  like  us,  measure  up  about  our  size,  and 
shoot  like  we  do. 

When  the  United  States  jumped  in,  hat  in  the  ring, 
and  a  gun  in  each  hand,  the  English  turned  me  loose 
so  I  could  go  with  the  Americans.  And  I  went  and 
done  it,  in  a  hurry;  joined  right  up  with  the  Rainbows, 
and  I  made  no  mistake. 

They  did  not  measure  up  as  tall  as  the  Australians, 
and  a  Texan  or  an  Australian  could  shoot  rings  around 
them  with  his  left  hand — but  they  had  spunk.  Proud ! 
Well,  say,  the  Rainbows  was  some  proud !  I  knew 
they'd  fight  like  bear  cats,  for  when  you  get  a  young 
American   bank   clerk,    insurance   agent,    druggist   or 


108  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

what  not,  and  till  him  full  of  small  town  jazz,  that  the 
"boosters"  clubs  turn  out,  and  then  put  him  in  a  county 
convention,  or  a  firemen's  fair,  or  a  militia  regiment, 

alongside  of  another  bunch  of  boosters  from  Bing- 
hamton  or  Dallas — say!  He's  going  to  keep  the  lime- 
light burning  on  his  home  town,  if  he  has  to  supply  the 
fuel  himself. 

Well,  there's  the  Rainbows  for  you.  The  minute  the 
bunch  was  off  duty,  they  lu-ld  a  high  conclave  of  all 
the  boss  boosters  of  the  country.  I  felt  at  home  there, 
too.  For  I'm  a  Texas  booster  myself.  You  have  to 
show  the  man  from  Missouri,  but  the  guy  from  Ti 
will  do  the  showing  himself. 

We  knew  wrhy  the  French  and  English  didn't  win 
the  War. 

They  was  waiting  for  us.  We  was  sure  of  it.  and 
that's  the  way  we  went  over. 

Now  don't  get  the  idea  we  was  a  passel  of  conceited, 
young,  small  town  boys.  We  knew  we  had  a  man's 
job  cut  out  for  us,  but  we  knew  we  was  the  men  who 
belonged  on  the  job. 

The  fellows  who  trained  us,  took  out  the  frills  and 
put  on  the  polished  steel  finish. 

Because  I  could  drive  anything  that  had  a  engine  in 
it,  they  stuck  me  in  Company  E,  One  Hundred  and 
Seventeenth  Supply  Train,  Q.  M.  C,  attached  to  the 
Forty-second  Division,  the  Rainbows. 

We  went  to  France ;  and  while  the  line  got  ready 
for  the  big  job,  learned  all  the  little  tricks  of  the  Hun, 
and  worked  up  a  few  new  degrees  of  their  own.  I 
rustled  the  chow  for  the  bunch. 

Fighting  is  a  hungry  job,  and  when  the  Rainbows 
started  in  they  kept  going.  Here  today  and  gone  to- 
morrow, to  put  in  a  wallop  somewhere  else. 

The  big  refrigeration  station  of  our  army  was  at 
Gavres,  France.  I'd  load  up  there  and  start  out  to 
find  the  men.  It  is  part  of  this  war  game  to  keep  the 
men  on  the  line  without  food  and  water,  and  it's  an- 
other part  of  it  to  get  the  food  and  water  to  them. 

I  was  on  the  get-it-to-them  end,  and  no  matter  how 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  109 

thick  it  got  in  France,  it  was  tame  compared  with 
what  we  went  through  when  I  was  at  Gallipoli — ex- 
cept for  the  gas.  The  Turks  may  be  heathen,  but  they 
was  too  much  gentlemen  to  use  gas.  I  got  some  re- 
spect for  them.  But  a  German  just  naturally  will  do 
anything. 

When  our  men  went  in  at  the  Soissons  row,  I  was  on 
a  trip  to  them  with  plunder — canned  tomatoes,  meat, 
and  so  on.  Their  line  was  up  along  the  Ourcq  River 
about  July  27th,  when  they  were  trying  to  get  across, 
and  the  bloody  froth  of  the  fight  blew  back  in  my  face 
as  I  plowed  along  to  the  front. 

God,  how  they  punished  the  Rainbows  that  day ! 

Half  a  dozen  times  I  was  warned  to  turn  back,  but 
the  sight  of  our  men, — the  men  of  my  division, — flood- 
ing past  me  broken  wrecks ;  and  the  stories  they  told 
of  the  line  held  up ;  sent  me  on.  The  wounded  said 
the  men  up  at  the  front  were  hungry  and  dry. 

I  knew  no  damned  river  would  stop  them,  once  they 
had  their  chow  and  wet  their  lips  on  some  of  those 
Maryland  packed  tomatoes. 

So  I  went  ahead. 

They  had  been  nearly  forty-eight  hours  with  nothing 
to  eat  when  I  caught  them.  Scattered  among  the  trees, 
with  their  machine  guns  chattering  over  the  Ourcq,  its 
current  choked  with  Rainbow  dead,  the  men  were  lick- 
ing their  wounds  like  a  pack  of  cougar  hounds  that 
had  been  all  clawed  up  and  had  not  got  their  beast, 
though  they  had  it  up  a  tree  and  were  waiting  to  re- 
new the  fight. 

What  do  I  care  that  the  Huns  got  me  and  got  me 
good  on  the  way  back  ?     Damn  them  ! ' 

The  Rainbows  had  crossed  the  Ourcq. 


PRIVATE  ALBERT  MARKS 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  111 

IX. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private  Albert  Marks 

Bom  at  Neivport,  R.  I.,  February  5,  1896.  Enlisted  in 
69th,  Nezv  York,  National  Guard,  July  17,  1917.  Overseas 
September,  1917  .  Seriously  wounded  in  Champagne  sector 
and  reported  dead. 

His  Own  Story 

I  was  born  at  Newport,  R.  I.,  on  February  5,  1896. 
Enlisted  at  the  Old  Sixty-ninth  Armory  on  July  17, 
1917.  Happened  to  be  the  first  and  only  Jew  to  sign 
up  with  this  company.  For  this  I  was  nicknamed 
"Patty  Irish,"  the  Fighting  Irish  Jew. 

I  landed  at  Brest  on  September  12,  1917,  with  the 
"Fighting  Irish."  We  trained  for  three  months  with 
rifles  and  bombs,  and  after  that  had  another  month's 
training  with  gas  masks. 

On  February  26th,  we  were  put  in  the  front  line 
trenches  in  the  Lorraine  sector.  This  is  where  our 
regiment  got  the  first  taste  of  war. 

We  lost  thirty-eight  men  in  a  dugout,  including  one 
officer,  Lieutenant  Norman.  Four  men  were  trying  to 
pull  him  out,  and  had  him  up  to  the  knees,  when  an- 
other shell  came  and  buried  him  and  several  other  men. 
His  last  words  were,  "Don't  worry,  boys,  we'll  all  be 
out."  We  dug  for  ten  hours  straight  trying  to  get 
these  men  out.  We  did  not  use  picks  and  shovels,  for 
we  didn't  have  them,  but  used  helmets  and  drinking 
cups. 

A  pioneer  officer  told  us  three  times  to  get  up  and 
leave  it  alone,  but  we  wanted  to  get  our  buddies  out. 
1,  personally,  after  being  there  for  ten  hours,  went  and 
got  a  pick  and  shovel,  then  a  shell  came  and  buried 
the  place  again. 


112         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

We  never  got  thai  officer,  and  that  was.  no  doubt,  his 
death. 

Then  the  third  battalion  went  in,  and  were  in  five 
hours  ulun  the  Germans  sent  over  a  gas  barrage.  Out 
of  500  men.  eight  were  not  gassed.  All  the  rest,  492, 
were.  I.  at  the  time,  was  delivering  a  message  to 
Major  Donovan,  and  got  a  whiff  of  the  stuff  and  was 
sent  back  to  a  hospital. 

I  caught  up  with  my  regiment  at  Ansiville,  and  from 
there  we  went  to  Baccarat  where  we  were  finally  re- 
lieved by  the  Seventy-seventh  Division. 

This  was  June  28th,  and  we  started  on  a  hike  to 
the  Champagne  front. 

I  carried  my  mail  from  home  in  one  of  my  pockets, 
and  during  this  hike  I  lost  a  few  letters.  Some  of 
these  were  picked  up  by  one  of  my  officers,  and  some 
by  a  young  lad  in  my  own  division.  This  youth  was 
later  hit,  and  fell  unconscious. 

A  French  sergeant  happened  to  pick  him  up,  and 
was  with  him  till  he  died.  His  last  word  was, 
"Mother."  This  French  sergeant  then  wrote  back  to 
my  folks  (having  taken  the  mail  from  the  dead  boy's 
pockets)  stating  that  I  died  and  my  last  word  was 
"Mother,"  and  he  thought  it  was  his  duty  to  fight  for 
my  revenge. 

He  told  my  people  that  he  had  buried  me  with  three 
other  boys,  and  even  told  them  where  he  buried  me. 
When  my  mother  got  this  letter,  she  also  received  my 
insurance  and  back  allotment  from  Washington.  Two 
weeks  later,  when  just  about  to  go  into  mourning  for 
me,  she  received  word  from  me,  explaining  just  how 
and  where  I  was.     I  was  wounded  at  the  time. 

Well,  we  got  to  the  Champagne  front  on  July  2nd. 
On  July  14th,  we  were  doing  barb-wire  detail  with  the 
French  from  four  o'clock  until  eight  o'clock  (four 
hours),  and  at  ten  minutes  to  twelve  that  night  we 
were  ordered  to  get  down  into  the  trench  for  control 
of  No  Man's  Land.  We  staved  there  four  hours,  help- 
ing the  French  hold  the  front  line.     At  four  o'clock 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 113 

the  next  morning,  we  were  toid  to  go  back  to  where 
the  rest  of  the  regiment  was  located. 

Lieutenant  Otto  was  at  the  lead,  and  he  looked  up 
in  the  communicating  trench  and  saw  the  shell  were 
flying  too  heavy,  so  he  told  us  to  get  back. 

As  I  turned  around,  a  shell  broke  even  with  my  hips. 
A  few  pieces  of  shrapnel  were  in  my  head,  luckily  it 
did  not  hit  me  in  the  temple  I  was  also  hit  in  the  arm. 
The  concussion  of  another  shell  threw  Sergeant  Jimmy 
Hamilton  two  feet  into  the  air.  He  came  down  right 
on  my  back,  so  hard,  that  I  thought  I  was  hit  again 
and  thought  I  was  broken  in  two. 

I  picked  Jimmy  Hamilton  up  with  one  arm,  the  best 
way  I  could,  and  pulled  him  into  a  dugout,  thinking 
he  was  still  alive,  but  a  French  doctor  pronounced  him 
dead. 

I  stayed  there  from  4  o'clock  till  8 :30.  Three  times 
I  was  ordered  to  go  back  to  a  first-aid  dressing  station 
for  treatment,  but  refused.  I  was  resolved  to  avenge 
myself. 

At  8  o'clock  the  Germans  came  over,  and  the  first 
German  that  came  over  the  trench,  I  killed  just  as  he 
came  over.  I  then  went  to  a  hospital  to  have  my 
wounds  treated,  and  the  doctors  called  it  a  compound 
fracture  of  the  right  shoulder  and  upper  right  arm. 
I  was  in  Chaumont,  A.  E.  F.  headquarters,  and  from 
there  went  to  Savenay,  Base  Hospital  No.  8.  This  is 
the  Post  Graduate  Hospital,  of  New  York  City,  and 
here  when  a  man  is  slightly  wounded,  he  goes  back  to 
the  front  line  trenches ;  and  when  seriously  wounded, 
he  goes  back  to  the  "States." 

Being  seriously  wounded,  I  was  sent  back,  and 
landed  at  Newport  News,  Va.,  on  September  2,  1918. 
When  I  got  back,  I  immediately  wired  home.  The 
folks  thought  that  I  was  shell  shocked,  and  everything 
else  that  goes  with  it,  but  when  I  telegraphed  home  for 
money,  my  father  was  sure  that  I  was  very  sane. 


) 

w 

t      y*  ■    Y~*    *•     i 

\ 

SERGEANT  JOSEPH  MORIXI 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  115 

X. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AND  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Sergeant  Morixi 

Born  in  Catania,  Italy.  Enlisted  in  Company  D,  103rd  In- 
fantry, of  the  26th  Division,  the  Yankees.  Overseas  1917. 
Seicheprey,  Chateau-Thierry  salient.  Wounded  taking  of 
Hill  204.     Gassed. 

His  Own  Story 

New  England  was  my  part  of  the  country,  and  Bos- 
ton my  home.  If  not  of  the  old  Yankee  stock  by  birth, 
I  was  by  education  and  inclination.  It  didn't  take  the 
Mayflower  to  make  an  American  out  of  me. 

When  America  declared  war,  I  realized  the  time  had 
come  for  me  to  make  good  on  my  Americanism,  so  I 
enlisted  on  May  16th,  1917.  My  training  began  at 
Camp  Devens  where  they  did  their  level  best  to  make 
soldiers  out  of  us. 

It  was  hard  for  us  to  learn  the  habit  of  implicit  and 
instant  obedience,  for  by  nature  I  was,  and  so  were 
most  of  the  boys,  inclined  to  go  it  alone. 

We'd  heard  so  much  about  the  German  soldiers  be- 
ing stupid  cattle,  who  could  drill  but  not  think,  that 
we  most  generally  held  to  the  idea  that  all  we  needed 
to  become  soldiers  was  to  take  a  gun,  stuff  it  full  of 
cartridges,  and  blaze  away.  Each  one  of  us  was  go- 
ing to  win  the  war. 

But  we  found  out,  that  if  we  were  going  to  keep  out 
of  each  other's  way  and  get  our  grub  in  time,  we  had 
to  learn  to  march.  That  is,  we  were  beginning  to 
find  out  from  our  own  experiences  that  we  didn't 
know  much  about  the  war  game  and  the  soldiering 
business,  and  that  it  was  up  to  us  to  lend  an  attentive 
ear  to  those  who  could  tell  us. 


116  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

We  began  to  make  progress  from  then  on,  and  after 
a  while  the  officers  addressed  themselves  to  our  intel- 
ligence and  spirit  of  go  it  alone,  for  they  were  not  try- 
ing to  kill  that,  but  teach  us  how  to  employ  it  best. 
The  idea  was,  that  we  should  be  intelligently  brave 
at  a  time  when  every  mother's  son  of  us  would  be  at 
heart  scared  to  death. 

Camp  Devens  did  that  for  us  and  did  it  not  only 
for  war  but  for  peace. 

Then  we  went  overseas  as  the  Yankee  Division. 

More  training  in  France,  and  then  we  took  over  a 
part  of  the  front  near  a  place  you  may  have  heard  of 
by  the  name  of  Seicheprey.  The  Twenty-sixth  Divi- 
sion will  never  forget  that  place,  and  by  the  same 
token,  the  Germans  won't  either. 

We  made  them  pay  in  the  fight  at  St.  Mihiel  for 
the  good  time  they  gave  us  at  Seicheprey. 

That  spring  in  France,  was  a  hectic  period,  and  as 
spring  waned  into  summer,  things  grew  interesting  and 
we  saw  the  fighting  we  had  come  for. 

Between  May  31st,  when  the  motorized  Seventh 
Machine  Gun  Battalion  of  the  First  Division  blazed: 
into  action  in  support  of  the  French  Colonials  who 
were  holding  the  Marne  at  Chateau-Thierry,  and  the 
18th  of  July,  the  Twenty-sixth  had  come  up  from  its 
training  area,  had  taken  over  the  Belleau  Wood  sector. 

We  knew,  of  course,  our  boys  were  winning,  but 
when  we  saw  the  fields  covered  with  our  dead,  and  as 
we  deployed  our  lines  in  the  woods  and  among  ruined 
houses  and  found  more  and  more  of  our  men,  we 
wondered,  with  so  many  of  them  killed,  who  had  lived 
to  defeat  the  Boche. 

I'll  tell  you  now  and  tell  you  honest,  the  sight  of  all 
those  boys  killed  made  us  pretty  sick.  You  could  smell 
the  dead  for  miles.  The  Camp  Devens  training  stif- 
fened us  up  and  we  were  ready  to  do  our  duty,  but  we 
were  not  crazy  for  the  job. 

I  suppose  you  people  who  read  this  will  think  we 
were  not  brave.  Well,  we  stuck  out  and  went  in  when 
our  time  came. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  117 

But  it  sure  was  some  jolt  to  us  to  camp  out  in  Bel- 
leau  Wood. 

On  the  18th,  the  left  of  the  Twenty-sixth  was 
thrown  forward  to  maintain  contact  with  troops  that 
had  gone  ahead.  The  right  then  spread  along  the 
whole  line.  It  filled  the  world.  The  sky  was  on  fire 
with  it  at  night,  and  the  roll  of  the  guns  never  stopped. 

The  Twenty-sixth  was  in  it.  We  had  become  ac- 
customed to  the  companionship  of  those  who  had  fal- 
len, and  were  becoming  anxious  to  prove  our  own 
mettle  and  right  to  the  title  of  the  Yankee  Division. 

Some  of  the  men  from  the  First  Division  were 
going  out  and  passed  us.  They  laughed  at  us  and 
jibed  us. 

"Who  ever  saw  a  dead  Yankee?"  they  chanted. 

There  were  plenty  to  be  seen  before  the  next  night, 
and  a  regular  officer  who  happened  to  pass  my  com- 
pany cried  out  to  us : 

"Well  done,  Twenty-sixth!     You  belong." 

The  fighting  of  the  20th  and  21st  was  bitter  enough 
to  satisfy  even  the  German  appetite  for  gore. 

Overlooking  Chateau-Thierry,  a  hill  pokes  its  head 
above  the  surrounding  forest.  On  the  maps  the  un- 
imaginative people  who  make  our  maps  had  named  it 
"Hill  204."  Our  first  big  job  was  to  take  that  hill  and 
hold  it. 

The  air  hummed  with  machine  gun  bullets  with  a 
sound  as  from  the  wings  of  swarms  of  black  flies  in 
the  North  Woods  in  July.  The  bullets  bit  and  stung 
u?  and  drew  our  blood.     But  we  were  travelling  fast. 

The  first  fire  of  a  machine  gun  nest  on  our  advanc- 
ing line  was  often  its  last,  for  our  eyes,  and  minds,  and 
purpose  were  all  centered  on  the  crest  of  Hill  204.  We 
just  rushed  ahead  regardless  of  everything,  and  took 
it. 

In  the  last  effort  to  reach  the  crest  of  the  hill,  I  saw 
my  Pal  and  Buddie  blown  to  atoms  by  a  bursting  shell, 
while  I  went  down  with  a  machine  gun  bullet  through 
my  leg. 

The  Twenty-sixth  went  on.    The  wounded  and  dead 


118  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

were  left  behind.  Those  who  were  lightly  wounded, 
by  that  I  mean,  so  they  could  walk  or  crawl,  tried  to 
get  back  to  the  dressing  station  alone.  The  rest  waited 
for  the  stretcher  bearers  and  ambulances. 

I  had  quite  a  dose  of  the  hospitals  and  just  before 
1  was  returned  to  duty,  a  blessed  fifteen  days  in  Paris. 
I  liked  the  old  town. 

Returning  to  my  regiment,  I  was  gassed  just  about 
the  first  thing  and  before  I  was  again  fit  for  duty  the 
armistice  was  signed. 

So  you  see  I  did  not  win  the  war  all  myself,  but  I 
think  I  won  the  right  to  the  name  Yankee  all  right, 
for  I  went  up  that  hill,  in  the  face  of  their  machine 
guns,  and  tried  to  catch  the  Germans  with  my  hands. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  119 


AMERICAN  OFFICIAL  COMMUNIQUE  133 
Headquarters,  American  Forces,  Sept.  26th,  1918. 

Section  A — This  morning  northwest  of  Verdun,  the 
First  Army  attacked  the  enemy  on  a  front  of  twenty 
miles  and  penetrated  his  lines  to  an  average  depth  of 
seven  miles. 

Pennsylvania,  Kansas  and  Missouri  troops,  serving 
in  Major  General  Liggett's  corps,  stormed  Varennes. 
Montbainville,  Vauquois  and  Cheppy,  after  stubborn 
resistance. 

Troops  of  other  corps,  crossing  the  Forges  Brook, 
captured  the  Bois  de  Forges  and  wrested  from  the 
enemy  the  towns  of  Malancourt,  Bethincourt,  Mont- 
faucon,  Quisy,  Nantillois,  Septsarges,  Dannevoux,  and 
Gercourt-et  Dirllaucourt. 

The  prisoners  thus  far  reported  number  over  five 
thousand. 

Pershing. 


CORPORAL  JOHX  H.  BEXXETT 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  121 

XI. 

THE  OLD  ARMY  AXD  THE  NEW 

THE  STORIES  OF  THE  "REGULARS"  AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Corporal  John  H.  Bexxet 

Enlisted  as  a  private  June  7 ,  1916,  in  the  Engineer  Corps. 
Overseas  November,  1917.  Wounded  at  St.  Mihiel,  returned 
to  duty  and  wounded  again  while  bridging  Meuse  River  and 
leg  amputated. 

His  Own  Story 

I  enlisted  in  the  service  as  a  private  on  June  7,  1916. 
On  November  14,  1917,  I  was  sent  across  on  the 
George  Washington. 

We  landed  safely  and  after  much  shifting  around 
and  drilling,  we  finally  moved  to  the  Vosges  Moun- 
tains, and  went  into  action  July  15th,  1918. 

After  the  capture  of  the  town  of  Frappell,  I  was 
attached  to  the  Fifth  French  Army,  doing  instruction 
work.  I  was  gassed  at  St.  Die  July  21,  and  lay  on  the 
field  eight  hours,  before  I  was  picked  up  by  a  French 
patrol  and  carried  to  a  hospital  in  Geradmire,  France. 

August  3rd,  I  reported  to  my  outfit  for  duty.  We 
drilled  for  the  St.  Mihiel  attack  that  took  place  on 
September  12th.  At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  of 
September  14th,  I  received  a  machine  gun  bullet  in 
the  left  shoulder  and  was  carried  to  a  hospital  at  Toul, 
where  I  remained  three  weeks. 

October  18th,  we  started  a  hike  back  to  the  Argonne 
Woods  with  a  pack  of  ninety  pounds  on  our  backs. 
We  hiked  for  four  days  and  nights. 

October  26,  we  went  over  the  top  about  25  kilo- 
meters from  Verdun.  We  were  in  the  battle  four 
days,  and  were  then  relieved  and  sent  back  23  kilo- 
meters. The  morning  of  November  1st,  we  were  sent 
again  to  the  Argonne  Woods,  and  went  over  the  top 
until  the  4th. 


122  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

A  platoon  of  54  men  was  sent  to  the  Meuse  River 
to  build  a  bridge  for  the  infantry  to  advance.  One 
lieutenant,  three  sergeants  and  fourteen  privates  wen- 
killed.  Therefore,  as  I  was  corporal,  I  was  left  in 
charge.  We  were  surrounded  by  a  box  barrage  by  the 
enemy.  We  put  two  bridges  across,  and  both  were 
blown  down.  Finally,  as  we  could  not  keep  a  bridge 
up,  we  got  the  infantry  across  in  pontoon  boats. 

At  nine-thirty  that  evening,  a  high  explosive  shell 
wounded  me  in  the  left  leg,  and  in  the  right  hip  also. 
I  lay  on  the  held  until  four  o'clock  the  next  day.  Dis- 
covering that  I  was  losing  a  lot  of  blood,  I  took  off 
my  right  legging  and  tied  it  around  my  left  knee, 
stopping  the  flow  of  blood.  At  four  o'clock  I  was 
carried  away  by  a  French  ambulance. 

There  were  only  eight  boys  left  of  the  fifty-four  I 
was  in  charge  of.  Two  were  wounded  by  shrapnel, 
the  rest  were  killed. 

I  was  carried  to  a  hospital  behind  the  lines,  where  I 
remained  five  days  and  was  eventually  sent  to  No. 
68  at  Mars.  In  December,  my  leg  was  amputated 
above  the  knee. 

March  4th  I  left  Brest  on  the  S.  S.  America,  bound 
for  the  good  old  U.  S.  A.  On  March  12th,  I  was 
taken  to  Debarkation  Hospital  No.  5,  Greenhut's, 
New  York. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  123 


"PASSED  BY  THE  CENSOR" 

EXCERPTS  FROM  LETTERS  OF  A  STAFF 

OFFICER  OF  THE  SEVENTY-SEVENTH 

DIVISION 

A.  E.  F., 
May  25,  1918. 

We  had  a  rough  trip  over,  but  it  was  great.  Sighted 
a  few  subs  and  got  a  thrill. 

Landed  on  my  birthday,  and  ever  since  have  been  in 
the  midst  of  an  intensely  interesting  and  rapidly  de- 
veloping film  of  life  and  action. 

It's  so  huge,  this  game.  And  one  is  compelled  to 
live  right  in  the  immediate  present.  I've  only  seen  a 
little,  and  just  that  little  puts  a  different  angle  on  my 
ideas. 

Had  a  great  trip  over  the  Boche  lines  in  a  plane  and 
got  my  first  real  fire  from  anti-aircraft  and  machine 
guns.     Fritz  didn't  get  us,  but  came  mighty  close. 

Naturally,  I  can't  write  all  I  would  like  to.  It's  the 
most  interesting  life  imaginable,  and  I'm  strangely 
happy.  I  lived  years  in  a  couple  of  minutes  lately,  and 
surely  that  intensity  is  worth  while. 

My  French  is  improving,  I  can  patter  fairly  well 
now.  Never  felt  better,  and  am  getting  lots  of  exer- 
cise. I  have  a  great  little  horse ;  I  never  got  my  "grey" 
from  the  States.     Named  this  new  one  "Vimy." 

In  the  evening,  we  sit  around  a  large  dinner  table, 
smoking,  and  drinking  a  Scotch  and  soda  or  light  wine. 
We  talk  it  all  over,  the  old  life  and  the  new,  bits  of 
news  from  home,  what  might  have  happened  if  the 
war  hadn't  happened,  etc.     It's  all  very  absorbing. 

You'll  have  to  excuse  the  rambling  character  of  this 
letter,  but  there's  always  so  much  going  on  right  close 
to  me ;  too  darn  close,  part  of  the  time. 

Remember  how  we  used  to  talk  over  whether  I 
would  "get  the  wind  up,"  or  scary?  Well,  M — ,  I 
guess  they  all  do,  a  bit,  for  I've  talked  with  lads  who 


12  1         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

have  been  through  incredible  hell,  and  they  all  agree 
one  does  feel  a  little  nervous,  but  "carries  on"  just  the 
same.  I  got  awfully  dry  in  the  throat,  when  the  Boche 
were  shooting  at  ns  the  other  day.  Later,  while  sit- 
ting in  a  shop  back  of  the  lines,  having  a  bottle  of  wine 
with  an  Englishman,  the  shelling  got  quite  intimate. 
I  noticed  that  both  of  us  were  somewhat  unsteady  with 
the  hands.  However,  you  can  fight  it  off — if  you  can 
control  your  imagination. 

August  29,  1918. 

There  are  many  difficulties  about  correspondence 
here.  First,  there  is  so  much  of  interest  that  one  can't 
write  about,  an  all  wrise  censor  prohibiting.  Second, 
without  meaning  to,  one  gets  on  the  personal  side  too 
much,  and  becomes  a  fearful  bore  to  one's  friends. 

At  the  risk  of  injecting  too  much  ego,  I  will  say  that 
I'm  well  and  happy,  and  still  have  all  my  arms  and 
legs,  very  needful  in  these  hectic  days.  Brother  Boche 
has  spared  me  so  far,  but  hasn't  missed  by  any  too 
wide  a  margin,  I'll  tell  the  world.  Certainly  no  one 
is  bored  in  our  little  family. 

One  strikes  a  medium  in  any  sort  of  life,  and  I,  for 
the  most  part,  preserve  an  even  tenor  of  disposition. 
I  have  been  sublimely  happy  and  distressingly  sad ; 
always  fairly  busy ;  very  tired  at  times ;  disgustingly 
dirty  for  short  periods ;  for  the  most  part  well  fed,  and 
only  once  cigaretteless.  That  last  was  a  calamity.  The 
wonderful  charm  of  it  all  is,  its  absolute  uncertainty, 
new  emotions  sounded, — actual  work  done. 

And  a  spectacle  to  watch  and  participate  in  that  has 
the  Ziegfield  Follies,  The  Great  Train  Robbery,  Bel- 
levue  Hospital,  the  Slocum  disaster,  and  the  San  Fran- 
cisco fire,  looking  like  a  nickel  side  show. 

Sure  have  seen  some  doings, — tragic.,  heroic,  and 
ludicrous.  It's  a  blessing  that  the  human  mind  can 
adjust  itself  so  quickly.  Why,  I've  seen  lads  calmly 
reading  a  letter  from  home,  while  less  than  a  half  mile 
away  the  damndest  show,  I  swear  reverently,  was  rag- 
ing to  the  tune  cf  Hell's  Symphony. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  125 

But,  M — ,  whatever  they  send  us,  we  double  the 
stakes.     And,  oh,  boy,  it's  a  plenty ! 

Well,  one  could  write  forever,  and  not  tell  half. 

One  thing  I  must  talk  about  though,  and  that's  our 
girls  over  here,  nurses,  canteen  workers,  entertainers, 
etc.  They  are  wonderful.  If  I  ever  was  inclined  to 
be  a  sentimentalist,  the  little  I've  seen  so  far  has 
knocked  it  out  of  me.  But  I  must  say  that  the  forti- 
tude, courage,  devotion,  and  cheerfulness  displayed  by 
our  girls  under  even  the  most  distressing  circum- 
stances, is  nothing  short  of  marvellous.  They  go  any 
place,  never  seem  to  get  panicky,  and  believe  me,  they 
come  fast  at  times,  too.  Not  the  girls, — I  mean  shrap 
and  heavies.  They  sure  are  inspiring.  No,  no, — not 
the  shrap, — I  mean  the  girls, — Oh,  what's  the  use? 

I'm  a  lucky  lad.  Everything  so  far  has  finished  hap- 
pily for  me,  in  spite  of  some  very  near  ones,  and  a  wee 
bit  of  gas,  just  enough  to  give  me  a  touch  of  "mal  de 
mer." 

We  sure  get  some  good  laughs  out  of  letters.  One 
fellow's  wife  wrote  she  had  sent  him  a  sleeping  suit, 
you  know  the  kind  kiddies  wear,  with  closed  feet.  And 
none  of  us  with  our  clothes  off  at  night  for  two  weeks ! 

My  brother  is  over  here  and  I  got  a  great  letter  from 
him.  It  appears  that  a  certain  brand  of  French  cham- 
pagne was  a  bit  too  strong  for  him.  Anyway,  -he  got 
a  trifle  zig-zag.  He  was  disciplined  by  being  made  to 
don  a  pair  oi  blue  denim  overalls  with  a  large  "P"  on 
them  and  put  to  work  on  real  estate  with  a  man-sized 
shovel. 

"You  know,  Kid,"  O —  wrote  jukingly,  "they  put  all 
of  us  Princeton  men  in  one  company." 

Oh,  the  intense  humanness  of  it  all ;  I  mean  our  side, 
— not  the  Boche.  If  this  game  doesn't  bring  out  the 
good  qualities  in  a  chap,  nothing  will.  I  never  could 
be  a  snob  after  what  I've  seen.  Often  from  the  ones 
you  least  expect  it  of,  brotherly  love,  helpfulness,  cour- 
age and  sacrifice  under  the  toughest  conditions.  You 
get  so  you  love  every  one  of  your  men. 

And  the  kidding!     It  started  the  day  we  warped  in 


126  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

at  the  dock.  The  first  thing  we  saw  was  a  big,  officious 
English  cop.  One  of  my  nun,  sitting  on  the  anchor, 
piped  up,  "  'Ello,  Bobbie,  I  'opes  yer  well."  The  kid- 
ding never  ends.  Just  a  few  minutes  ago,  the  outfit 
induced  some  slow  thinking  lad  to  ask  the  cook  for 
a  piece  of  porterhouse  steak.  The  boys  are  great, 
funnier  than  the  best  acts  at  the  Palace.  Right  now, 
a  lad  is  singing  in  a  high  falsetto : 

"I  don't  care  how  they  miss  me  home, 
If  the  Germans  miss  me  here." 
You  can't  be  anything  but  cheerful  with  this  outfit. 

October  21,  1918. 

It's  been  a  very  busy  little  campaign.  Until  yester- 
day when  I  took  a  hot  shower  and  luxuriated  in  fresh 
linen,  I  hadn't  had  my  clothes  off  in  three  weeks. 

What  a  succession  of  strange,  exciting,  humorous, 
pathetic,  and  heroic  parts  I've  sten  enacted  in  this 
drama  of  War.  It's  like  another  life,  for  now  I  see 
it  in  retrospect.  I'm  sitting  in  a  little  shack,  which  was 
built  by  the  Boche.  I'm  very  cozy  in  front  of  a  bright 
fire.  There  is  even  a  piano,  plundered  by  the  Boche 
from  some  French  chateau. 

The  General  presides  over  the  little  family,  still 
nearly  intact, — only  one  absentee.  We  laugh  and  kid, 
Gene  plays  snatches  from  old  Broadway  shows,  but 
deep  underneath  wre  are  changed,  I'm  sure.  The  re- 
membrance of  dear  friends  gone,  and  of  frightful 
sights,  can't  be  dispelled  so  quickly. 

M — ,  remember  saying  that  I  was  coming  back? 
Well,  I  guess  you  were  right.  It  looks  as  if  they 
couldn't  get  me.  Sure  have  had  some  close  ones;  my 
horse  killed,  a  bullet  through  my  raincoat,  and  other 
narrow  escapes.     But  I  guess  I'll  fool  'em. 

I'm  very  happy  to  have  been  recommended  for  an 
immediate  promotion  in  a  letter  from  the  General. 
He  wrote  lots  of  things  that  I  really  don't  deserve,  but 
that,  nevertheless,  are  gratifying  to  hear.  He  said  that 
if  it  were  permissable,  he  would  recommend  me  for  a 
captaincy.     It  all  goes  on  my  record,  and  I'm  glad. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  127 

Don't  think  this  is  vainglorious  pride.  I've  seen  too 
much  over  here  to  believe  in  the  sham  of  talk.  I'll 
never  put  on  any  lugs  over  this  affair.  Too  much  has 
been  seared  into  me. 

Certainly,  the  boys  had  Brother  Boche  on  the  run; 
it  was  great  to  see  him  draw  back.  We  gave  him 
everything  we  had,  and  he's  still  going.  It  looks  like 
the  beginning  of  the  end. 

I  may  get  a  little  leave.  If  so,  I  will  visit  my 
brother,  about  a  hundred  miles  away.  Also,  I'll  get 
some  new  uniforms,  for  mine  are  literally  in  shreds. 
I  had  to  get  issue  enlisted  men's  clothing,  as  I  was 
breaking  out  into  society  in  a  shameful  way.  I'd  have 
been  arrested  if  I'd  appeared  in  public.  When  I  got 
a  look  at  myself  in  a  mirror,  I  sure  had  a  good  laugh. 

One  thing  I've  learned  just  lately,  is  to  look  at 
trouble  in  the  big  perspective.  I  had  that  lesson 
knocked  into  me  when  I  blundered  into  a  little  show 
with  about  fifteen  men,  holding  approximately  five 
yards  per  man,  totalling  seventy-five  yards  of  front. 

Well,  it  was  hot.  A  couple  of  times  I  was  wishing 
for  a  Blighty.  Things  looked  dark  for  quite  a  while. 
Then  it  cleared  a  little;  we  got  ahead  a  bit, — finally  it 
all  lulled  down.  I  was  thinking  what  a  tough  time 
we'd  had  and  how  important  we  were,  when  I  over- 
heard the  Colonel  say,  "Today,  on  the  entire  four 
hundred  mile  front, " 

And  I  thought  what  a  damn  fool  I  was,  thinking  I 
was  fighting  the  whole  war  on  a  seventy-five  yard 
front,  when  the  big  idea  was  the  four  hundred  mile 
front. 

The  individual  doesn't  count  in  this  big  game. 

Well,  as  a  moralizer,  I'd  make  a  good  plumber,  so 
I'll  quit  the  Walt  Whitman,  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox 
stuff,  and  pursue  the  straight  narrative. 

I  just  read  a  Ring  Lardner  story  and  he  wrote  one 
line  that  struck  me  particularly  funny,  "There  are  a 
lot  of  bugs  over  here,  and  some  of  them  are  in  khaki." 

Today  a  nice  boy  who  joined  us  recently  was  given 
three  days'  leave.     He  is  going  to  visit  some  people  in 


128         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Aix  le  Bains.  He  is  run  ragged  trying  to  borrow  a 
pair  of  breeches.  He  is  rather  a  tall,  slim  lad,  fussy 
about  his  clothes,  and  in  this  particular  case,  very  anxi- 
ous to  make  a  hit.  So  far,  the  best  he  has  been  able  to 
borrow  is  a  pair  about  six  sizes  too  large.  Some  one 
just  now  brought  him  a  pair  of  overalls.  He  has  fif- 
teen miles  to  ride  to  the  nearest  railroad  station,  and 
his  train  leaves  at  four.  The  poor  kid  is  in  a  terrible 
stew,  and  the  bunch  stands  around  kidding  him.  Some 
one  just  suggested  that  he  make  a  pair  of  breeches  out 
of  his  blanket. 

It's  a  cruel  war. 

Our  General  now  is  a  two  star.  That  means  our 
family  will  break  up.  It  certainly  was  fun  working 
with  him  in  the  advance,  for  he's  a  wonder.  The  men 
love  him  and  behind  his  back,  they  call  him,  "Uncle 
Wit."  He  sure  has  been  great  to  me,  with  the  letter 
he  wrote  for  me.  And,  really,  what  I  did  was  nothing, 
compared  to  lots  of  the  other  fellows. 

I  hope  you  can  read  this  pencil  scrawl.  I've  lost  all 
my  letters,  fountain-pen,  address  book, — everything. 
At  one  stage  of  my  wanderings,  I  found  myself  alone 
with  a  bottle  of  Cologne,  a  tube  of  tooth  paste,  and  a 
can  of  corned  beef.  My  bedding  roll  has  been  lost  for 
weeks.  I  use  my  horse  blanket  and  a  shawl  I  acquired 
somewhere.  When  the  shades  of  night  approach,  and 
the  urge  of  slumber  arrives,  I  just  gracefully  recline  on 
the  floor  of  my  shack,  my  trench  coat  buttoned  up 
tightly,  my  little  cap  on,  and  in  my  hand  my  trusty 
stick  that  I  salvaged  off  a  dead  Boche  officer.  They  tell 
me  I  look  very  angelic.  One  lad  thought  I  was  dead. 
It's  a  great  life,  I'll  tell  the  world. 

A.  E.  R, 

December  9,  1918. 
Life  is  certainly  pleasant  here.  The  sun  has  been 
out  quite  a  lot  and  the  country  is  beautiful.  I  ride 
around  on  my  horse  or  in  the  General's  limousine. 
The  little  French  kids  are  playing  again  and  it  all 
makes  one  very  happy. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  129 

We  sit  around  after  dinner  and  play  the  Victrola, 
lots  of  McCormick  records  and  old  comic  opera  scores. 
It's  comfy,  a  nice  open  fire,  a  bunch  of  good  fellows 
laughing  and  chatting,  and  you  think  how  pleasant  it  is. 
Then  from  away  in  some  hidden  recess  of  your  mind, 
you  get  a  thought  of  some  old  friend.  You  picture 
him  as  he  lies  alone  in  some  little  patch  of  forest  in 
the  Argonne,  or  in  some  small,  rude  cemetery  where 
French  civilians,  Boche,  soldiers, — French  and  Ameri- 
can,— are  all  buried  together.  You  see  the  low,  white 
cross  with  a  gas  mask  and  helmet  hung  on  it,  and  you 
think  of  former  gatherings  when  he  was  along;  you 
remember  his  laugh  and  his  voice. — 

And  it's  not  just  one  that  comes  into  your  mind,  it's 
lots  and  lots  of  them. 

I  can't  figure  out  how  so  many  who  had  more  to 
live  for  and  were  much  more  worthy  than  I,  should 
have  had  to  pay  all. 

So  that's  how  it  goes,  but  for  the  most  part,  I'm 
happy  as  a  king.  Life  is  kind  to  me, — health,  an  ador- 
able mother,  and  the  best  of  friends. 

New  York  sure  must  have  gone  crazy  when  hostili- 
ties were  called  off.  I'll  keep  the  game  honest,  and 
say  that  no  one  could  have  been  more  pleased  than  I 
was.  The  place  where  we  were,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Meuse  River,  was  decidedly  hot.  The  night  of  the 
tenth,  we  heard  rumors  that  eleven  o'clock  the  follow- 
ing morning,  all  bets  would  be  off.  During  the  night, 
the  Boche  lobbed  over  a  few  big  ones  that  took  away 
a  section  of  real  estate,  and  the  shell  weren't  any  too 
far  from  our  happy  home.  The  next  morning,  I  had 
to  go  out  in  a  side  car  to  a  nearby  town  to  get  some 
dope,  and  the  road  wasn't  the  healthiest  place  in  the 
world.  When  the  Boche  were  still  putting  them  over 
at  ten-thirty,  I  began  to  think  maybe  Jerry  hadn't 
heard  about  this  armistice  stuff.  I  was  a  bit  worried, 
I  will  admit.  Then  side  cars  make  you  uneasy  because 
the  noise  of  the  motor  drowns  the  sound  of  the  shell 
and  you  can't  tell  where  they're  headed.     However, 


130  ECHOES  EROM  OVER  THERE 

that  really  doesn't  matter,  because*  you  never  hear  the 

one  that  hits  you,  anyhow. 

I  looked  at  my  watch  several  times,  and  when  at 
eleven  o'clock,  the  firing  ceased,  I  was  sure  a  happy 
kid. 

And  now  it's  over.  I  thank  God  it  is,  and  you'll  be- 
lieve me,  that  it's  not  on  account  of  my  own  selfish 
hide. 

But  just  to  think  of  what  it  means.  Xo  more  suffer- 
ing, no  more  disorder. 

From  now  on,  the  distressing  sights  are  to  be  cov- 
ered up ;  the  litter  of  battle  salvaged ;  and  the  green 
slopes,  fields  and  roadsides  will  be  rid  of  debris.  Towns 
will  be  rebuilt,  and  filled  with  men  and  women  living 
sanely,  pursuing  their  lives  in  peaceful  tenor. 

You  can't  get  it,  unless  you've  seen  the  wreck  and 
despair.  Broken  guns,  field  pieces,  old  clothes,  clotted 
bandages,  wagons  and  ambulances  shot  away,  bloody 
stretchers,  dead  horses  and  men,  masses  of  putrefying 
flesh, — all  will  be  buried  and  removed  from  sight. 

In  the  back  areas,  whole  towns  are  in  ruins,  women 
weeping,  little  kids,  emaciated,  with  old,  pinched  faces, 
wistful,  no  heart  to  play.  No  more  of  that,  thank 
God.    No  more  injustice,  no  more  fear. 

Why,  it's  OVER ! 

It  had  to  be.  I  suppose  so  long  as  there  is  life  and 
ideals,  we  will  have  to  protect  them  with  as  rotten  a 
thing  as  war,  if  necessary.    But  it  is  rotten. 

I  can't  realize  it's  over ! 

We  made  a  long  march  back  over  the  way  we 
battled  through.  Now  we  are  in  a  training  area  in 
the  south  of  France,  near  Chaumont,  and  it's  very 
pleasant.  I  am  billeted  in  an  awfully  comfy  room, 
stove,  large  French  bed,  and  more  tapestries,  beads, 
and  pictures  of  Christ  than  an  altar. 

With  my  limited  French,  I  induced  the  old  French 
girl  who  owns  the  house  to  make  coffee  for  me  before 
breakfast.  I  have  a  striker,  who  serves  it  to  me  in 
bed,  and  then  says  in  a  beautiful  brogue,  "Come  on 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  131 

now,  out  wid  ye,  it's  toime  to  be  goin'  to  yer  break- 
fast.    Faith,  an'  the  Gineral,  hisself,  is  up." 

"In  a  few  minutes,"  I  say  sleepily. 

"I  will  not  lave  till  I  see  ye  start  to  put  yer  clothes 
on,"  he  announces. 

If  I  flop  back  on  the  pillows,  he  yanks  the  bed 
clothes  off.    He  sure  does  bully  me. 

After  breakfast  I  ride  around  and  check  up  on  drill 
periods,  and  inspect  the  stables  and  quarters.  A  nice 
open  air  life,  but  I  sure  would  like  to  stroll  into  the 
Biltmore  for  a  cup  of  tea. 

December  27th,  1918. 

Christmas  done  come  and  gone.  I'm  going  to  tell 
you  about  Christmas  in  France. 

'Twas  the  night  before  Christmas  and  all  through 
the  town,  not  a  creature  was  stirring,  but  that's  not 
a  bit  unusual  as  this  is  a  particularly  quiet  town.  But 
seriously,  my  Christmas  consisted  of  staying  in  bed 
and  missing  breakfast,  then  taking  a  long  horseback 
ride  through  the  woods.  At  one  o'clock,  we  all  sat 
down  to  a  very  nice  dinner,  fine  roast  turkey  and  fix- 
in's,  champagne  and  cordials.  We  toasted  the  de- 
parted ones,  the  Army  and  Navy,  and  a  quick  return 
to  the  U.  S.  A. 

After  dinner  we  sat  around  an  open  fire  and  smoked, 
drank  liquers,  and  talked  over  old  Christmases  in  the 
States,  and  wives  and  girls  at  home. 

Well,  it  got  just  as  cheerful  as  a  convention  of 
morgue  keepers.  Then  we  put  on  some  nice  cheerful 
records,  "I  Hear  You  Calling  Me,"  "Love,  Here  Is  My 
Heart,"  "Snowy  Breasted  Pearl"  and  "Say  Au  Revoir, 
but  Not  Good-bye." 

About  this  time,  when  the  gaiety  was  at  its  height, 
some  one  suggested  that  we  finish  off  some  champagne 
we  were  saving  for  supper.  We  finished  that,  and  then 
things  began  to  assume  a  more  seasonable  glow.  You 
might  say  that  the  carnival  spirit  was  rife. 

A  Y.  M.  C.  A.  entertainer  was  to  sing  at  the  "Y" 
in  the  evening.    A  girl !    So  we  sent  out  Doc  H — ,  the 


132  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

vet,  to  get  introduced  to  the  lady  and  ask  her  to  supper 
with  us  in  the  evening.  Doc  started,  hut  got  side- 
tracked, returning  later,  sans  girl.  In  no  uncertain 
language  we  told  Doc  just  the  kind  of  a  guy  we  thought 
he  was.  Doc  refused  to  get  sore,  saying  that  he  had 
been  insulted  by  experts. 

Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  we  went  to  the 
show,  and  after  one  glance  at  the  girl  in  question, 
Doc  became  the  most  popular  man  in  the  party.  She 
was  a  nice  girl,  all  right,  but  she  had  no  corner  on  the 
beauty  market. 

Snow  fell  during  the  night,  and  the  next  morning, 
the  little  village  and  valley  looked  like  fairyland.  The 
men  had  a  good  old  fashioned  snow  ball  fight. 

M — ,  we  had  quite  a  big  fire  in  the  stable  of  the 
chateau  the  other  day. 

The  General  and  family,  including  yours  truly,  were 
at  dinner,  when  an  orderly  rushed  in  and  announced 
that  the  stable  was  on  fire.  We  tore  out  and  got  the 
horses  and  saddle  tack  out.  The  wind  was  strong  and 
for  a  while  it  looked  as  though  the  whole  chateau 
would  go.  Two  companies  of  infantry  arrived  and  we 
started  a  bucket  brigade.  Then  a  French  fire  engine 
or  pump  arrived.  It  was  a  little  two  by  four  with 
about  ten  yelling  Frenchies  dragging  it.  Maybe  they 
wreren't  excited.  They  started  to  unlimber  and  fight 
over  who  was  to  hold  the  nozzle.  They  never  had 
a  look  in,  for  a  big,  burly  private  stepped  up  and 
settled  that  war.     He  was  going  to  run  that  fire. 

We  worked  all  night  and  put  out  the  fire.  The  men 
sure  did  enjoy  it.  They  hadn't  had  any  excitement 
since  the  armistice  wras  signed.     It  was  a  scream. 

The  little  French  cure  hopped  up  and  down,  yelling 
encouragement  and  advice.  It  couldn't  have  been 
otherwise ;  he  got  it  full  in  the  map.  It  was  like  a 
Charlie  Chaplin  film,  any  time  an  excited  Frenchie 
got  in  the  way,  he  got  a  wetting  down. 

The  damage  was  slight,  and  "a  good  time  was  had 
bv  all." 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  133 

The  days  pass  fairly  quickly  with  manouvers,  tacti- 
cal exercise,  and  training.     I  ride  a  great  deal. 

My  room  is  very  comfortable,  with  a  dinky  little 
stove  that  I  drape  myself  over.  My  bed  is  a  big,  high 
boy.  If  I  ever  fall  out,  it's  good  for  a  broken  arm  or 
leg. 

I'm  getting  to  be  quite  a  parley-vous  artist.  People 
who  speak  good  French  say  I'm  very  funny.  I  have 
speed,  but  no  technique. 

Meanwhile,  patience  is  one  of  the  virtues  we  learn  in 
the  army.  I'm  cultivating  it.  Some  day,  a  boat  will 
hump  up  to  a  Hoboken  dock,  and  this  fledgeling  will 
be  on  it.     In  the  meantime,  I'm  sitting  tight. 

Yesterday  I  read  the  "Love  Letters  of  a  Rookie."  I 
love  that  line  about  the  sweater  the  girl's  mother  sent 
him,  "I  got  the  sweater  your  mother  sent  me.  I'm  not 
sore,  Mable,  give  vour  mother  my  love  just  the  same." 

January  19,  1919. 

I  am  very  happy,  of  course  I  will  be  happier  when 
I  gtt  back  to  the  States. 

Though  very  quiet  and  not  in  the  least  hectic,  life 
is  pleasant  here.  A  fine  lot  of  brother  officers. .  We 
ride  together,  loan  each  other  the  few  books  we  can 
get  hold  of,  visit  together  in  the  evenings  before  an 
open  fire. 

Doc  H — ,  our  vet,  went  to  Paris  on  leave  the  other 
day.  Before  he  left,  the  chaplain  said,  "Now  Doc, 
come  back  clean."  Doc  says,  "I  came  back  clean  all 
right, — not  a  cent." 

The  only  distraction  in  the  City  of  Juyencourt, — 
don't  you  love  the  name, — is  a  regimental  show  given 
at  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  twice  a  week.  I  go  regularly,  an 
ideal  first  nighter.  Usually,  I  take  Suzanne,  a  won- 
derful French  kid  about  nine  years  old.  She  wears 
an  officer's  overseas  cap,  and  pinned  around  on  it  is 
every  insignia  ever  worn  in  the  army.  She  is  all 
grades  from  second  lieutenant  to  general,  and  belongs 
to  every  branch  of  the  service,  infantry,  cavalry,  avia- 
tion, etc. 

The  shows  are  amusing;  several  of  the  players  used 


L3  I  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

to  be  in  burlesque,  so  there's  always  a  lot  of  slap  stick. 

Suzanne  loves  it,  and  is  a  great  audience.  If  there 
is  a  pathetic  ballad  rendered,  Suzanne  is  on  the  verge 
of  tears.     If  the  song  is  gay,  she  laughs  aloud. 

I  watch  Suzanne,  and  get  double  enjoyment  out  of 
the  show. 

My  leave  has  been  delayed  again. 

But  if  I  ever  feel  like  grumbling.  I  think  of  what  a 
winter  campaign  in  the  line  would  have  meant.     Then 
again,  I'm  healthy.    It's  much  more  fun  to  be  walking 
around  on  two  legs  than  on  crutches.     "Ow,  my  i 
that  would  'ave  been  a  bally  wash  out." 

You  know,  the  army  is  a  great  institution.  The 
lads  in  khaki  that  are  actively  engaged,  pity  the  Naval 
Reserves,  those  who  didn't  join  the  service,  and  the 
chaps  overseas  who  didn't  see  any  fire.  The  ones  with 
wound  stripes  pity  us,  who  fought  but  were  not  hit. 
And  they,  in  turn,  bow  their  heads  before  the  dead. 

After  all,  they  are  the  real  heroes. 

And  how  quickly  they  are  forgotten. 


PART  III. 
THE  NATIONAL  ARMY 


CAPTAIN  GEORGE  U.  HARVEY 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  137 


THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

SEVENTY-SEVENTH  DIVISION 

Captain  George  U.  Harvey 

Co.  A.  308th  Infantry.  Born  in  Galway,  Ireland.  Went 
to  first  Plattsburg  Camp  as  assistant  instructor.  Commanded 
Co.  A.  308th,  Sept.,  1917-Sept.,  1918.  Served  on  General 
Staff  A.  E.  F.  Sept.,  1918-Dec.  1918.  Served  on  British  front 
April  and  May,  1918,  at  second  battle  of  Arras.  Served  in 
Vosges  Mountains  zvith  VII  French  army.  Entered  Chateau- 
Thierry  drive  August  5th.  Took  part  in  fighting  on  Vcsle 
River,  near  Fismes.    Co.  A.  zvas  part  of  the  Lost  Battalion. 

Captain  Harvey  is  now  in  the  printing  and  publishing  busi- 
ness, the  Harvey  Press,  109  Lafayette  St.,  New  York  City. 

Note  Written  by  Captain  Harvey  to 
Mr.  Hamilton 
Dear  Sir: — 

Regret  I  did  not  see  you,  but  hope  you  can  get 
enough  from  these  notes  to  serve  your  purpose. 

This  is  a  copy  of  a  letter  that  I  wrote  home  and  has 
never  been  published. 

Kindly  cut  out  any  personal  references  I  may  have 
used,  as  all  credit  in  this  war  should  go  to  the  enlisted 
men,  not  to  the  officers. 

For  God  knows,  they  did  the  trick,  not  us. 
Yours  truly, 
(Signed)  George  U.  Harvey. 

His  Own  Story 

Knowing  you  are  interested  in  fights,  I  am  going 
to  try  and  tell  you  about  the  real  one  we  had  at 
Chateau-Thierry  and  the  Vesle  River,  when  we  beat 
hell  out  the  Hun,  and  commenced  the  turn  of  the  tide. 
Am  sure  you  will  agree,  had  we  not  helped  to  stop 
him  then  and  sent  him  on  his  way,  conditions  would 
not  be  as  they  are  today. 


138  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

We  had  been  in  the  Yosges  for  over  two  months, 
and  my  company  was  doing  its  turn  in  the  front  lines, 
when  we  got  word  that  we  were  to  move.  Of  course 
we  didn't  know  where,  nobody  ever  does. 

The  night  I  was  relieved,  we  got  away  from  the 
trenches  about  12  p.  m.  and  marched  most  of  the  night, 
or  what  was  left  of  it,  and  when  day  broke,  we  made 
camp  and  rested.  As  soon  as  it  was  dark,  we  were 
on  our  way  again,  and  so  on  the  next  night.  In  these 
two  nights  we  covered  over  forty  kilometers — not  bad 
for  a  bunch  who  had  done  eight  days  in  the  front  line. 

At  the  end  of  our  march,  we  reached  a  good  sized 
town  and  here  waited  for  our  trains.  I  was  what  they 
call  train  commander  and  had  the  job  of  getting  our 
battalion  on  board,  wagons,  horses,  men  and  all.  They 
packed  from  35  to  40  men  into  a  small  horse  car,  but 
our  lads  didn't  kick,  as  it's  much  better  than  hiking. 

I  was  given  sealed  orders,  with  instructions  not  to 
open  until  so  many  miles  from  the  station.  I  opened 
them  in  due  time.  Of  course,  I  never  heard  of  the 
place  mentioned  in  the  orders,  but  with  due  consulta- 
tion of  the  map,  I  found  that  the  place  was  near 
Chateau-Thierry,  so  then  there  wasn't  much  doubt  as 
to  our  destination. 

After  two  days  of  bumping  around  and  going  along 
about  12  miles  per  hour,  we  arrived  at  our  station. 
Here  I  had  to  unload,  find  out  where  the  battalion 
could  camp,  etc.  We  found  a  good  town  this  time, 
saw  a  little  life  and  had  a  few  good  things  to  eat,  as 
we  were  but  a  few  hours  from  Paris. 

From  the  military  activity  about,  we  knew  we  were 
in  a  place  where  they  were  pulling  big  league  stuff ; 
the  country  was  full  of  English  who  were  doing  their 
bit  at  Rheims ;  Italians  and  French  who  did  good  work 
at  Soissons. 

We  didn't  linger  much  at  this  town,  however,  but 
early  the  next  day,  got  our  orders  to  move,  and  damn 
quick  at  that.  We  did,  and  after  going  about  five 
miles,  we  saw  a  fine  line  of  busses,  into  which  they 
packed  us  like  fish.    We  knew  that  when  we  were  go- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  139 

ing  for  a  ride  in  French  busses,  it  meant  business,  and 
that  we  were  needed  badly  somewhere — so  we  bumped 
and  bumped  over  the  roads  of  Sunny  France  for  about 
twelve  hours,  going  into  Chateau-Thierry  and  beyond 
till  we  reached  Fere-en-Tardenois.  It  was  dark  when 
we  reached  this  town,  and  from  the  ruins  and  smells 
we  knew  that  something  must  have  happened.  I  had 
to  take  the  battalion  into  a  wood  about  a  mile  out  of 
the  town.  It  was  about  9 :30  p.  m.  when  we  reached 
them,  and  I  shall  never  forget  that  place — it  was  filled 
with  dead  men  and  horses.  The  whole  wood  was 
pulled  to  pieces,  the  weather  was  warm  and  the  smell 
of  the  bodies — I  shall  never  forget  it. 

Everywhere  you  stepped,  you  stumbled  over  some- 
one. I  didn't  sleep  an  awful  lot.  The  next  day  we 
spent  in  clearing  the  place,  and  it  was  some  job.  This 
town  was  the  Hun's  base  for  his  drive  on  Paris.  The 
amount  of  stuff  captured  was  beyond  description — 
you  couldn't  see  all  his  dumps  in  a  week.  There  were 
shells  everywhere,  guns  large  and  small,  beyond  count. 
We  found  a  great  store  of  bottled  mineral  water  which 
the  Hun  gave  to  his  men.  We  certainly  did  enjoy  it. 
The  only  thing  I  found  him  to  be  short  of  was  to- 
bacco— what  we  found  was  made  of  ground  oak  leaves 
and  neatly  packed.  The  Hun  was  very  active  with 
his  planes  and  seemed  to  own  the  air,  so  we  had  to 
keep  close  to  the  woods. 

In  one  of  his  dugouts,  we  found  that  a  British  Tom- 
mie  had  written  his  name,  regiment  address,  etc.,  say- 
ing that  he  was  a  prisoner  and  to  notify  his  people, 
which  we  did. 

It  was  near  this  place  that  young  Roosevelt  lost  his 
life,  and  judging  from  the  number  of  planes  which  we 
saw  lying  around,  he  was  but  one  of  many.  Here  we 
could  hear  the  roar  of  battle  and  it  kept  going  all  the 
time ;  all  night  the  sky  was  lit  up.  Part  of  our  division 
was  in  the  fight,  but  as  everything  nowadays  is  in 
depth,  and  as  we  were  the  last  to  go  in  (having  just 
come  out  of  the  line),  we  had  to  wait  until  there  was 
room  in  the  front  line. 


140         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Our  second  battalion  went  up,  just  750  strong,  next 
morning,  150.  Then  the  third  went  up,  and  then  it 
was  our  turn. 

It  was  about  noontime  when  we  got  word  to  go  for- 
ward at  once;  this  is  unusual,  as  troop  movements  are 
supposed  to  be  made  at  night,  but  necessity  sometimes 
alters  the  case.  We  afterwards  learned  that  our  bat- 
talion, on  the  line,  had  been  badly  cut  up  and  required 
relief.  At  one-thirty,  I  moved  out  with  a  few  men  at 
a  time,  finding  our  way  across  country  through  the 
woods,  which  hid  our  movement  from  the  Huns' 
planes.  We  lost  our  way  and  found  it  again,  but  al- 
ways marched  in  the  direction  of  the  sound  of  the 
guns,  which  after  all,  was  a  sure  guide  when  going 
into  action. 

We  crossed  a  railroad  and  here  saw  every  bridge 
blown  up.  Judging  from  the  hoof  prints  up  and  down 
each  side  of  the  steep  railroad  embankment,  it  was 
evident  that  the  Hun  went  out  in  a  hurry  and  spared 
neither  man  nor  beast. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  we  reached  our  camping  place 
for  the  night.  It  was  a  dense  wood  into  which  we 
found  our  way,  and  we  made  ourselves  as  comfortable 
as  possible.  We  were  now  under  fire  of  the  big  guns, 
but  we  had  used  such  caution  that  the  Boche  did  not 
learn  of  our  arrival. 

The  air  activity  was  great — we  spent  what  was  left 
of  the  daylight  in  watching  many  interesting  air  fights. 
At  times  there  would  be  from  twenty  to  thirty  planes 
raising  hell  with  one  another.  The  Hun,  however,  had 
the  upper  hand  and  did  just  about  what  he  wanted, 
setting  fire  to  one  of  our  O.  B.  balloons,  which  was 
just  over  our  wroods. 

The  next  day  the  captains  went  up  to  the  second 
line  to  look  things  over.  We  had  our  share  of  escapes, 
as  the  Hun  was  doing  all  in  his  power  to  hold  us  for  a 
few  days  and  we  had  run  into  a  hell-hole,  all  ready 
and  prepared  for  us.  I  am  sure  the  losses  were  greater 
in  the  weeks  we  held  on  at  the  Vesle,  than  in  the  whole 
Chateau-Thierry  fight.     It  is  easy  enough  to  go  for- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 141 

ward,  but  when  you  have  to  stop  and  fight  the  Hun  in 
positions  he  has  selected,  you  are  certain  to  pay  the 
price.  You  want  to  remember  that  all  this  fighting 
was  open,  and  we  had  to  dig  our  own  shelters.  You 
can't  do  an  awful  lot  of  hole-making  with  the  little 
entrenching  tool  that  you  carry.  All  the  day  was  spent 
in  going  over  the  position  which  our  companies  were 
to  occupy  in  the  second  line.  We  then  made  our  way 
back  to  our  companies  to  wait  until  dark. 

At  dark  we  led  off,  finding  our  way  through  the 
wood,  in  Indian  file,  with  about  ten  yards  between 
men.  This  idea  is  all  right  if  everybody  pays  atten- 
tion, but  when  conditions  are  confused,  you  are  apt 
to  land  at  the  end  of  your  journey  with  a  half  a  dozen 
men,  the  rest  of  the  company  being  God  only  knows 
where.  Things  went  along  all  right  until  we  were 
about  two  miles  from  our  position,  when  we  had  to 
come  out  into  the  open  and  in  front  of  our  batteries. 
Then  Jerry  got  busy.  He's  a  wise  old  fellow,  and 
knew  just  exactly  the  roads  and  paths  we  had  to  fol- 
low— he  always  seems  to  know  what  you  are  doing 
and  the  night  we  went  up  he  was  extra  wise.  He 
shelled  us  the  whole  time  with  shrapnel  which  luckily 
was  bursting  too  high  to  do  any  great  amount  of  real 
damage,  but  it  was  terrifying,  and  we  spent  the  rest 
of  the  trip  running  forward  and  flopping,  looking  for 
a  hole  or  a  tree  to  duck  behind.  This  lasted  for  about 
four  hours,  and  there  were  many  killed  and  wounded, 
but  none  of  my  men.  You  can  usually  find  a  way 
around  a  barrage,  but  this  one  seemed  hard.  I  would 
stop,  lead  off  one  way,  and  just  as  I  would  get  well 
started,  the  fire  would  shift  and  come  down  on  us. 
I  was  knocked  down  several  times  by  the  concussion, 
and  heard  the  shrapnel  pieces  hitting  my  tin  bonnet. 

To  make  matters  worse,  our  position  had  been 
changed  from  that  which  we  had  looked  over,  and 
as  our  guides  were  not  sure  of  the  way,  we  had  to 
wait  (it  seemed  for  hours),  for  somebody  who  knew 
the  country  ahead. 

I  found  my  position,  it  was  on  the  top  of  a  hill  which 


1  12         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

was  slightly  curved,  and  it  reminded  me  of  what  the 
beach  at  Gallipoli  must  have  been.  On  our  right  were 
two  batteries;  two  hundred  yards  behind  us,  in  the 
valkv,  were  several  more  batteries;  and  on  our  left, 
more.  I  took  up  a  position  a  few  yards  below  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  and  although  the  men  were  dead  tired,  I 
stood  over  them  and  made  them  dig  the  whole  night. 
Each  man  made  a  pretty  good  hole.  The  next  day  I 
had  all  hands  in  the  wood  cutting  logs  and  picking  up 
suitable  stuff  for  head  cover.  I  made  them  dig  all 
night,  every  night,  for  two  reasons ;  one,  they  got  good 
shelter,  and  I  am  proud  to  say  that  during  the  eight 
days  I  was  on  this  ridge,  not  one  of  my  men  was 
wounded.  The  other  reason  was  that  when  day  came 
they  were  dead  tired  and  only  too  glad  to  sleep,  thus 
the  Hun  didn't  know  that  we  were  there  (as  his  planes 
were  very  active  the  whole  time). 

The  guns  never  stopped,  day  or  night,  and  the  Hun 
never  ceased  his  fire.  He  knocked  the  battery  on  our 
left  out,  then  the  one  behind  us.  I  had  a  wonderful 
place  to  watch — I  could  hear  the  shell  coming,  duck, 
and  then  up  again  to  see  them  burst.  There  were 
many  of  our  men  killed  and  wounded — I  would  hate 
to  tell  you  just  how  many.  There  was  never  a  min- 
ute, day  or  night,  that  big  stuff  was  not  coming,  and 
most  of  the  shell  burst  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
our  line.  R —  couldn't  stand  it  and  went  to  the  hos- 
pital, a  nervous  and  physical  wreck,  and  there  were 
others  like  him.  Then  they  put  gas  over  the  whole 
night,  but  our  position  was  high,  with  usually  a  stiff 
breeze  blowing.  We  could  look  into  the  valley  and 
village  below  and  see  the  gas  clouds  covering  every- 
thing. We  heard  the  horns  going,  and  knew  that 
somebody  was  having  a  bad  time.  Gas  is  about  the 
worst  thing  in  war,  as  a  few  shell  will  put  a  whole 
company  out  of  business.  High  explosive  does  but 
little  damage ;  and  when  the  shelling  has  stopped,  it's 
all  over,  but  not  so  with  gas,  it  is  just  commencing. 
I  have  known  men  to  be  gassed  and  burned  by  mus- 
tard several  days  after  a  gas  attack,  just  by  going  into 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 143 

a  wood  or  a  dug-out.  It  makes  these  dug-outs  or 
wood,  etc.,  simply  uninhabitable,  and  you  must  get  out, 
of  course.  Rain  washes  it  out,  and  that  is  the  reason 
why  the  boys  at  the  front  don't  mind  when  it  rains. 

It  is  needless  to  say,  that  during  my  eight  days  on 
the  ridge,  I  didn't  sleep  very  much,  as  there  was  al- 
ways something  to  do,  and  the  nights  were  made 
hideous  with  constant  gas  alarms.  We  had  pretty 
good  food,  as  our  kitchen  was  in  the  village  about 
two  miles  away,  and  twice  a  day  we  carried  up  food. 

I  want  to  tell  you  about  two  faithful  little  Italians 
whom  I  had,  and  who  looked  after  the  officers'  food. 
At  Fere-en-Tardenois,  they  found  a  two-wheeled  ma- 
chine gun  cart,  which  the  Hun  had  left  behind,  and 
in  this  they  carried  what  food  they  could  find.  They 
filled  a  can  with  batter  for  flapjacks  and  at  most  un- 
expected times,  they  would  get  a  fire  going  and  come 
around  with  a  plate  full  of  the  most  delicious  cakes, 
naturally  everybody  would  wonder  where  on  earth 
they  came  from. 

The  things  which  I  have  told  you,  and  will,  may 
perhaps  seem  to  be  untrue,  but  any  infantry  man  who 
has  come  out  whole  from  a  big  fight,  no  matter 
where,  has  had  the  same  experiences.  In  fact,  every- 
body who  does  get  away  safe  and  sound  has  had  hun- 
dreds of  escapes  and  it's  a  marvel  to  me  that  anybody 
does  escape. 

At  the  end  of  eight  days,  the  company  commanders 
were  ordered  to  the  front  line  to  look  matters  over  on 
the  ground  of  the  company  they  wrere  going  to  re- 
lieve. I  left  early  in  the  afternoon,  with  two  ser- 
geants, and  I  am  going  to  tell  you  in  detail  our  ex- 
periences in  reaching  the  front  line,  as  some  days  later 
I  had  to  bring  my  whole  company  (190)  men  over  the 
same  route  and  at  almost  the  same  time  of  day. 

The  first  thing  we  had  to  do  was  to  report  to  the 
Battalion  Headquarters  of  the  outfit  to  be  relieved. 
This  was  about  three  miles  from  our  position.  The 
first  half  mile  was  through  a  wood  that  was  being 
shelled  and  full  of  gas,  but  we  came  through  without 


144  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

trouble,  but  the  next  part  of  the  journey  did  not  look 
promising.  We  had  to  cross  a  plateau  which  was 
about  two  miles  wide,  without  cover  or  holes,  and 
rising  right  above  this  was  the  Hun  position  so  situ- 
ated that  he  could  see  every  movement  on  our  side, 
and  even  one  man  was  subject  to  violent  fire  from  his 
Austrian  88's.  Well,  he  shelled  us  the  whole  distance, 
but  we  suffered  no  damage  beyond  the  dirt  and  dust 
caused  by  his  damned  shell. 

Now,  at  the  edge  of  this  plateau  was  a  valley,  half 
way  down  was  a  village,  the  "Villa  Savoy."  One  road 
led  into  the  village — this  was  the  special  sniping  ground 
of  an  expert  with  an  "88,"  and  every  inch  of  the  road 
was  under  observation.  At  the  foot  of  the  valley,  lay 
the  River  Vesle,  and  the  Vesle  was  our  objective. 
This  dirty  little  stream  is  certain  to  live  in  American 
history,  as  a  spot  where  our  boys  showed  what  they 
were  made  of,  and  that  Americans  know  how  to  die, 
for  surely  this  name  will  be  long  remembered  in  many 
a  home. 

Battalion  Headquarters  were  near  the  Villa  Savoy 
(but  somewhat  above  the  road  which  was  the  object 
of  the  "88"  sniper).  I  reported,  received  a  guide  and 
set  forth.  We  made  our  way  with  great  caution  till 
we  reached  the  road.  Along  this,  the  four  of  us  had 
not  gone  over  one  hundred  yards  before  we  heard  the 
shell  coming.  There  was  no  cover  beyond  a  bank 
about  ten  feet  high  along  the  road.  We  fell  under 
this,  put  our  tin  hats  over  our  faces  and  waited.  Here 
we  stayed  over  an  hour,  not  a  shell  was  further  away 
than  twenty  feet,  all  hitting  into  the  bank.  We  were 
jarred,  covered  with  dirt,  and  pieces  of  steel,  after 
each  shot  we  would  ask  each  other  if  any  one  had  been 
hit.     Talk  about  hell,  it  had  nothing  on  this. 

We  simply  waited  to  be  killed.  We  couldn't  move 
— there  was  nowhere  to  go — they  were  coming  at  the 
rate  of  about  two  a  minute.  At  last,  getting  desper- 
ate, we  each  took  turns  and  ran  down  the  road,  the 
nearest  cover  being  an  old  house  about  two  hundred 
yards  distant,  and  believe  me,  I  did  move.     Then  the 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 145 

building  was  hit,  and  we  ran  like  rabbits  from  one 
building  to  another,  until  the  Hun  either  got  tired  or 
lost  us. 

About  an  hour  later,  Captain  Brooks,  three  lieuten- 
ants and  four  men  were  killed  near  the  same  spot  we 
had  occupied,  so  you  see  I  was  right — the  Hun  simply 
couldn't  get  me.  Really,  I  hate  to  tell  you  what  I  went 
through,  as  I  feel  that  you  don't  believe  me,  but  every 
infantry  man  who  has  come  out  of  a  big  fight  has  had 
just  what  I  had,  and  doesn't  think  that  my  experiences 
are  anything  unusual. 

The  village  was  in  an  awful  condition,  simply  be- 
yond description — a  hell  on  earth.  The  dead  had  been 
there  over  a  week,  that  is,  some  of  them.  There  lay 
the  poor  wounded  lads,  waiting  for  night  when  they 
could  be  carried  up  the  road  which  I  had  just  come 
down. 

We  went  out  of  the  village,  down  the  bed  of  a  small 
creek,  and  about  one-half  mile  beyond  till  we  reached 
the  Vesle. 

We  crossed  by  the  one  bridge,  and  reached  the  R.  R. 
some  four  hundred  yards  beyond.  There  were  no 
troops  on  our  right  or  left,  and  we  were  the  only 
Americans  across  at  this  section.  The  Huns  occupied 
all  the  heights  and  knew  every  inch  of  the  ground.  I 
reached  the  railroad  and  found  that  the  Hun  controlled 
this  absolutely  with  his  machine  guns.  A  hole  had 
been  dug  through  the  bank  through  which  we  went 
on  our  hands  and  knees  (my  objectives  was  the  wood 
beyond).  By  the  time  we  arrived  there,  it  was  pitch 
dark,  so  all  we  could  do  was  to  find  Company  Head- 
quarters which  were  in  the  middle  of  the  wood.  There 
were  no  trenches,  but  simply  small  holes  which  each 
man  had  dug  himself.  We  had  posts  of  two  to  four 
men  along  the  edge  of  the  wood,  while  at  a  chateau 
some  eight  hundred  yards  to  the  right,  a  platoon. 

Soon  after  one  a.  m.,  the  Hun  opened  with  a  bar- 
rage. It  was  the  worst  I  had  ever  heard,  and  sounded 
as  though  the  end  of  the  world  was  coming.  What 
damage  it  did  to  the  woods,  the  men  knocked  out,  etc., 


IK)         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

can  best  be  imagined,  as  his  fire  lasted  about  live- 
hours.  I  was  shaking  like  a  leaf,  with  my  head  stuck 
into  the  bank.  The  place-  was  choking  with  the  smell 
of  the  bursting  shell.  I  asked  the  captain  just  before 
day  was  breaking,  it"  there  had  been  gas  used  or  not. 
He  sniffed  and  said  "no."  "Then  we  had  better  get 
on  the  job,"  I  remarked.  "They  are  coming  over." 
We  just  got  on  our  feet,  when  sure  enough,  they  were 
among  us.  Several  men.  about  twenty  feet  away, 
were  burned  by  their  torches.  They  had  come  around 
the  woods  from  all  directions — everywhere  you  turned 
you  heard  their  damned  M.  G.'s  and  bombs.  They 
were  yelling  and  making  an  awful  noise,  and  it  was 
surely  terrifying. 

There  was  nothing  now  but  to  fight — we  knew  that 
retreat  was  impossible,  as  the  barrage  was  moved  be- 
hind us,  so  the  fight  began.  We  were  all  over  the 
woods  in  little  groups  and  each  had  its  forty  or  fifty 
Huns  to  look  after.  I  had  my  two  sergeants  and  with 
two  other  men,  I  took  care  of  our  left.  I  grabbed  a 
rifle  and  bayonet,  and  we  played  the  good  game  of 
blur!  on  them.  It  worked  great.  We  would  lie  down, 
shooting  what  we  could  at  the  distance,  when  they 
came  too  close  I  would  yell  "Charge"  and  the  five  of 
us,  yelling  with  all  our  might,  would  go  into  them. 
They  never  stopped  once  (once  would  have  been 
enough).  I  didn't  know  how  many  were  killed,  but 
we  did  our  bit.  One  of  our  men  went  after  nine  of 
them,  and  killed  them  all 

Things  commenced  to  look  helpless,  in  fact  they  did 
from  the  start.  Nobody  ever  expected  to  come  out  and 
the  best  we  hoped  for  was  to  be  taken  prisoners.  I 
threw  away  all  my  papers  and  just  kept  fighting.  We 
heard  some  shouting  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  then  a 
number  of  Huns  with  their  hands  up — these  were  the 
first  signs  of  hope,  now  we  knew  that  he  was  quitting 
and  pulling  out.  From  the  prisoners,  we  learned  that 
about  1,000  had  come  over.  We  were  160,  and  killed 
250  of  them  and  took  about  20  prisoners.  When  we 
took  stock,  there  were  about  fiftv  of  us  left.    We  de- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  147 

cided  to  pull  out  of  the  woods,  and  formed  up  with  K 
Company  on  the  track.  It  took  considerable  time  to 
move  the  wounded  out — we  couldn't  get  them  through 
the  hole  in  the  railroad  bank,  so  we  climbed  over  the 
top  of  the  bank  and  took  a  chance.  The  platoon  at 
the  chateau  was  missing  and  we  never  found  a  trace 
of  them,  even  later  when  the  division  went  on  to  the 
Aisne.     We  hope  the  poor  lads  are  prisoners. 

Company  K  had  a  hard  time  of  it  also.  They  had 
fought  well,  killed  their  share  and  suffered  equally 
with  us  during  the  shelling,  especially  when  the  bar- 
rage moved  back  to  the  track,  they  received  hell. 

The  two  companies  now  held  the  track,  and  we 
commenced  to  dig  holes  in  the  bank,  as  we  knew  the 
Huns  would  be  mad  for  the  beating  up  we  had  given 
them. 

We  spent  about  five  hours  getting  things  into  shape. 
Everybody  was  dead  to  the  world  and  very  hungry, 
as  we  had  had  no  breakfast  and  had  lost  what  food 
we  had. 

I  was  on  the  left  of  the  line,  working  on  my  funk 
hole,  and  not  paying  a  great  deal  of  attention  to  what 
was  going  on.  The  men  near  me  I  noticed  had  pulled 
out,  but  I  didn't  think  anything  of  it.  The  next  thing 
I  knew  was  that  the  Huns  had  worked  around  each 
flank,  had  gotten  behind  us  and  now  opened  up  with 
their  M.  G.'s,  at  about  200  yards.  About  this  time, 
a  party  came  over  the  track  and  jumped  almost  on 
top  of  me.  They  got  my  coat  and  I  spent  the  next 
few  moments  running  to  the  river  with  eight  of  them 
after  me.  I  don't  know  how  I  got  away,  but  I'm  here. 
I  ran  pretty  fast,  and  reached  the  river,  wondering 
how  in  the  world  I  was  to  cross.  As  I  told  you,  there 
was  only  one  bridge,  but  luck  was  with  me.  A  shell 
had  knocked  a  tree  down,  which  lay  across  the  river, 
and  over  this  I  stumbled  and  scrambled  while  the  Hun 
had  some  fine  target  practice.  While  finding  the  way 
to  the  river,  everybody  I  saw  seemed  to  have  a  ma- 
chine gun,  they  appeared  to  be  in  all  directions  and 
the  bullets  kept  buzzing  about  my  ears.     However,  I 


148  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

was  so  exhausted  by  this  time  that  I  didn't  care 
whether  they  hit  me  or  not. 

I  now  made  my  way  back  to  the  Villa  Savoy,  and 
here  I  spent  a  few  hours  doing  what  I  could  for  the 
wounded,  who,  poor  devils,  were  put  in  cellars,  for  in 
the  street  they  were  being  killed  or  wounded  by  the 
shelling.  The  stretcher  bearers  were  too  tired  to 
work  any  more,  so  a  lieutenant  and  myself  tried  our 
hand  at  the  work,  which  meant  carrying  the  wounded 
up  the  road  (under  shell  fire),  of  which  I  had  my  ex- 
perience the  night  before.  I  lost  some  of  my  best  men 
here,  who  were  carrying  the  wounded.  But  this  was 
hard  work  and  I  couldn't  do  any  more,  so  I  went  back 
to  Headquarters  and  reported. 

Here  I  was  told  that  my  company  had  been  ordered 
up  at  once,  to  reinforce  the  companies  on  the  Vesle. 
They  left  the  second  line  at  one  o'clock  and  came 
across  the  plateau  under  a  terrific  barrage.  However, 
only  one  man  was  slightly  wounded.  I  met  them,  and 
down  we  went  through  Villa  Savoy  and  into  the  Vesle, 
where  what  was  left  of  two  companies  (47  men)  had 
taken  up  their  position,  after  their  retreat  from  the 
railroad  tracks.  Our  men  put  new  life  into  them  and 
they  began  to  reorganize  their  position. 

In  due  time,  darkness  commenced  to  settle  down, 
and  with  it  came  the  Hun,  with  his  light  machine  gun. 
He  got  around  us  until  his  fire  came  down  from  all 
sides,  front  and  rear,  while  his  guns  were  shooting  at 
our  rear,  to  make  help  impossible.  We  three  captains 
got  together  and  decided  to  get  out  and  hold  the  heights 
and  have  the  valley  filled  with  gas — in  other  words, 
do  what  the  Hun  was  doing.     So  out  we  went. 

It  took  us  about  three  hours,  and  about  1  a.  m.  we 
reported  to  the  Battalion  Commander  as  to  the  action 
we  had  taken.  However,  his  orders  were  different,  as 
it  was  the  intention  of  the  First  Battalion  to  form  be- 
hind our  position  on  the  Vesle,  and  to  attack  at  day- 
break for  the  purpose  of  retrieving  the  lost  position. 
We  debated  and  decided  that  I  would  go  back  with 
Company  A  and  take  over  the  position.     So  out  we 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  149 

started.  I  didn't  have  much  hopes  of  getting  our  posi- 
tion, but  orders  are  orders. 

We  got  as  far  as  the  Villa  Savoy,  when  the  Hun 
opened  up  on  our  flanks  with  his  machine  guns.  I 
sent  small  parties  out  on  the  flanks  and  continued  on. 
It  was  now  about  six  hours  since  we  fell  back,  and 
believe  me,  I  was  worried,  as  there  was  no  way  of 
telling  whether  or  not  the  Hun  had  taken  over  our 
position.  To  make  matters  worse,  when  I  counted 
noses,  there  were  two  platoons  missing.  There  was 
no  telling  what  had  become  of  them.  You  can  under- 
stand that  it  was  hard  to  keep  all  the  company  together, 
as  we  went  Indian  file  with  about  ten  yards  between 
men,  and  with  the  darkness,  confusion  and  noise,  it  is 
quite  easy  to  understand  men  getting  lost. 

The  machine  guns  were  sending  a  hail  of  bullets 
our  way,  and  you  could  hear  them  hitting  the  trees 
overhead,  but  on  we  went.  Then  along  the  railroad 
bank,  then  into  the  woods,. just  back  of  the  Vesle  and 
our  position.  Now  the  machine  gun  fire  was  not  only 
coming  from  both  flanks,  but  from  our  front  and  rear. 
The  woods  seemed  to  be  alive  with  them.  I  formed 
my  outfit  facing  four  ways,  like  a  hollow  square,  de- 
termined to  stick  it  out  and  make  the  best  of  what 
looked  like  a  bad  job. 

We  expected  the  Hun  to  attack  at  any  time,  but 
nothing  doing  except  the  M.  G.'s  and  an  occasional 
shell. 

About  three-thirty,  our  artillery  opened  fire,  with 
the  object  of  clearing  the  woods  and  country  to  our 
front,  which  we  had  lost  the  day  before.  Our  front 
trench  (at  least  the  one  facing  to  the  front),  was  just 
100  yards  from  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Vesle.  The 
shell  would  go  overhead,  hit  the  bank,  and  it  was  ner- 
vous work  sitting  there  waiting  to  be  shot.  But  our 
guns  were  doing  wonderful  work  and  I  don't  remem- 
ber a  single  short  shot.  The  barrage  would  go  for- 
ward to  the  woods,  play  on  it  a  while,  and  then  come 
slowly  back  to  the  river,  then  on  again. 

In  the  meantime,  we  waited  in  vain  for  the  rest  of 


150         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

our  battalion,  which  was  to  form  behind  us,  but  it 
didn't  come.  However,  our  two  missing  platoons  came 
in.  which  made  us  feel  a  great  deal  better.  The  bar- 
stopped  at  five  o'clock,  the  hour  for  the  attack, 
but  no  battalion.  I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  I  asked 
Whiting  (Lieutenant  Clinton  Whiting  later  killed  with 
the  Lost  Battalion),  and  he  said  to  wait  a  while.  I 
did,  until  6 :30,  and  made  up  my  mind  that  I  could  do 
the  job  myself. 

The  Vesle  had  three  crossings,  they  were  not 
bridges,  but  some  logs  thrown  across  the  river,  which 
at  this  point  was  about  thirty  to  forty  feet  across,  ten 
feet  deep  and  filled  with  barbed  wire.  I  decided  that 
about  fifty  men  could  do  the  work,  that  is,  of  recover- 
ing our  lost  position,  or  of  clearing  out  the  Boche,  so 
that  we  could  occupy  it  when  the  rest  of  the  battalion 
came  up. 

About  forty  men  crossed  at  the  center  crossing, 
formed  for  attack,  while  a  squad  with  an  automatic 
rifle  crossed  on  each  flank. 

We  had  no  sooner  crossed  the  river,  than  the  Hun 
opened  fire  with  all  he  had.  We  soon  found  where 
he  was,  about  two  hundred  yards  away  in  front  of 
the  railroad,  well  hidden  in  the  bushes.  We  got  down 
and  fixed  bayonets,  and  commenced  to  go  forward,  a 
man  here  and  a  man  there.  The  rest  of  the  battalion 
commenced  to  arrive,  and  also  to  lose  a  good  many 
men,  for  the  Hun  appeared  to  be  nervous  and  was  fir- 
high,  which  resulted  in  the  men  who  were  coming  up 
being  hit  and  suffering  many  casualties. 

We  kept  going  forward,  while  the  party  on  the  right 
was  able  to  push  well  ahead  unobserved,  and  getting 
on  the  Hun's  flank,  opened  up  a  hot  fire  with  their 
automatic  rifle.  We  saw  the  Hun  wavering,  with  a 
cry,  we  went  into  him  with  fixed  bayonets,  and  he  took 
to  his  heels,  went  over  the  railroad  bank  and  ran  down 
the  track.  The  squad  which  had  flanked  him  followed 
down.  I  joined  this  party.  There  were  about  forty 
Huns  and  we  shot  them  like  chickens — they  pulled  off 
to  the  right  and  the  whole  bunch  tried  to  get  into  a 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 151 

small  opening  at  once.  We  were  now  within  a  hun- 
dred yards  of  them  and  opened  up  with  our  automatic 
rifles,  leaving  most  of  them  piled  up ;  at  the  same  time, 
we  rushed  two  machine  guns,  the  gunner  being  un- 
able to  open  fire,  owing  to  their  own  men  being  in  the 
way.  We  sent  one  of  the  crew  back  as  a  prisoner,  the 
others  are  still  there. 

The  minute  the  Hun  got  off  the  track,  some  M.  G.'s 
down  the  track  opened  on  us  and  it  was  our  turn  to 
run.  How  so  many  of  us  got  away  alive,  I  don't  un- 
derstand ;  however,  two  of  our  party  were  killed  and 
three  wounded.  We  then  went  back  to  the  Vesle  and 
on  taking  count,  I  found  that  it  had  cost  us  two  killed 
and  eighteen  wounded,  the  only  losses  I  had  in  Com- 
pany A  while  in  the  Vesle. 

The  308th  Infantry  were  at  Battle  of  Arras — The 
Vosges — Chateau-Thierry — The  Vesle — The  Aisne — 
Argonne  Forest — Captured  Grandpre — First  at  Sedan 
— beyond  that  it  didn't  do  anything. 

George  U.  Harvey, 
Captain  308th  Infantry,  U.  S.  A. 

Company  A  was  part  of  the  Lost  Battalion.  The 
regiment  received  four  Congressional  Medals  of 
Honor,  180  D.  S.  C.'s ;  Company  A,  21  D.  S.  C.'s ;  lost 
approximately  650  men  and  20  officers. 


PRIVATE  JOSEPH  B.  RIGLER 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 153 

II. 
THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

SEVENTY-SEVENTH  DIVISION 

Private  Joseph  B.  Rigler 
Born  in  New  York  City.    National  Army  September,  1917. 
Overseas  April,  1918.     Dispatch  runner.    Seriously  wounded. 

His  Own  Story 

With  the  Seventy-seventh  Division,  I  sailed  on  the 
Justicia  for  Liverpool,  arriving  on  the  19th  of  April, 
1918. 

Shortly  after,  we  crossed  the  Channel  to  Calais 
where  we  were  welcomed,  the  night  of  our  arrival,  by 
an  air  raid. 

Gee,  but  we  were  scared.  I  thought  sure  I'd  die 
that  night.  All  we  were  told  to  do  for  protection  was 
to  lie  on  our  bellies.  If  a  shell  ever  hit  our  tent,  "Good 
bye,  Buddy." 

Next  day  we  went  down  to  the  town  to  see  what 
damage  the  attack  had  done.  It  sure  was  terrible  to 
see  the  place  in  ruins  and  so  many  homes  in  flames. 

We  then  started  on  a  twenty  mile  hike  and  believe 
me  that's  no  joke  with  a  ninety-pound  pack  on  your 
hump. 

June  found  us  in  the  Lorraine  sector  where  we  got 
a  real  taste  of  warfare. 

Cannon  roared  day  and  night.  Something  told  me 
I'd  never  come  back. 

I  was  in  the  band.  That  sounds  nice  and  safe, 
doesn't  it?  Well,  it  was  a  different  story  here;  the 
good,  old  band  saw  plenty  of  action.  In  Lorraine,  all 
we  did  was  play  for  funerals,  nine  and  ten  a  day  for 
the  boys  in  the  Rainbow  Division.  All  these  funerals 
were  held  under  big  air  battles.  Our  lives  were  con- 
stantly in  danger. 

Presently,  the  boys  were  being  killed  and  wounded 


154         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

so  fast  that  they  decided  men  were  needed  more  than 
music.  So  they  took  our  instruments  away,  gave  us 
guns  instead,  and  put  us  into  the  fight. 

With  no  experience  at  all,  we  just  went  into  it. 
Boy,  I  sure  was  frightened.  Like  all  the  rest,  how- 
ever, I  soon  got  over  it.    I  was  out  to  get  the  Hun. 

They  made  us  stretcher  bearers.     One  grand  job! 

The  Boche  never  did  respect  the  Red  Cross.  If  they 
saw  you  carrying  a  wounded  man,  they'd  shoot  a  one- 
pound  cannon  at  you.     The  skunks  are  no  good. 

I  had  to  carry  in  many  a  bad  case  and  I  tell  you  it 
was  heartbreaking.  I've  carried  fellows  in  such  pain 
that  the  sweat  poured  off  them  and  I  never  heard  one 
complain.  So  long  as  they  were  conscious,  they'd  be 
cracking  jokes,  or  if  they  were  suffering  too  much  to 
talk,  they'd  lie  still  and  smoke  the  cigarettes  we  al- 
ways tried  to  have  for  them. 

As  a  reward  for  good  behavior,  I  was  given  one  of 
the  worst  jobs  in  the  army.  Dispatch  runner,  deliver- 
ing messages  to  the  front  line.  I  was  the  Colonel's 
private  runner.  I  used  to  go  up  to  the  front  every  day 
with  him.  How  I  used  to  wish  he'd  take  better  care 
of  himself.  He  was  too  brave  for  me,  but  I  got  used 
to  it  after  a  while. 

One  night,  I  had  a  very  important  message  for  Cap- 
tain Eddie  Grant,  formerly  of  the  New  York  Giants. 
That  was  the  last  time  I  saw  him ;  he  was  killed  later 
in  the  Argonne. 

After  crawling  along,  ducking  shell,  I  finally  reached 
him.  A  piece  of  shrapnel  hit  me,  breaking  my  leg  and 
putting  a  hole  clean  through. 

My  wound  was  so  bad  that  the  only  thing  that  saved 
me  from  having  my  leg  amputated  was  a  transfusion 
of  blood  from  another  Buddy.  Though  I  did  my  best, 
I  never  could  find  out  who  he  was.  Gee,  I'd  like  to 
know  his  name  so  I  could  try  to  thank  him. 

While  I  was  lying  on  the  field,  a  gas  shell  dropped 
near  me  and  I  got  a  dose  of  mustard  gas  in  my  lungs 
that  is  still  affecting  me. 

Dying  for  a  drink,  I  lay  out  on  the  field  two  hours 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  155 

before  I  was  picked  up.  I  stuck  my  head  in  the  mud 
to  try  and  get  some  water.  Meanwhile  shell  were 
dropping  all  around  me. 

Finally  the  shelling  stopped,  someone  heard  my 
groans  and  soon  a  Ford  came  along.  A  fellow  jumped 
out,  told  me  to  put  my  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
lifted  me  into  his  car.  There  were  three  other  boys 
in  that  car,  all  raving  mad. 

When  we  reached  the  first  field  hospital,  they  jabbed 
me  with  a  needle  and  I  lay  there  till  another  ambu- 
lance took  me  to  the  field  hospital.  There  I  had  the 
best  thing  in  months,  a  real  white  bed,  and  my  first 
warm  bath  since  leaving  home. 

Next  we  went  to  the  Chateau-Thierry  field  hospital. 
When  I  opened  my  eyes  there  were  two  Huns  car- 
rying my  stretcher.  I  think  if  I'd  had  a  hand  grenade, 
I'd  have  thrown  it  at  them. 

For  fourteen  weeks  I  was  in  a  hospital  in  Paris,  and 
then  went  to  Blois  where  my  name  was  posted  on  the 
bulletin  board  to  leave  for  Brest. 

The  day  we  boarded  the  ship  for  home,  was  the 
happiest  day  of  my  life.  I  was  sea  sick  all  the  way 
back  but  that  was  a  minor  detail.  When  I  passed  the 
Statue  of  Liberty,  I  felt  like  hugging  the  old  girl. 


PRIVATE   TOSEPH  SISEXWETN 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  157 

III. 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

SEVENTY-SEVENTH  DIVISION 

Private  Joseph  Sisenwein 

Co.  C,  307th  Infantry.  Sent  Camp  Upton  September,  1917. 
Assigned  the  77th  Division.  Fought  in  Lorraine  sector,  Fis- 
nies,  in  the  McUse  Argonne  offensive.  Was  wounded  in  the 
Argonnc. 

His  Own  Story 

Registration  Day,  June  5th,  I  answered  the  call  to 
the  colors. 

Before  long,  I  faced  the  medical  board  for  exami- 
nation. Out  of  about  thirty  that  were  examined,  I 
was  the  first  to  be  congratulated  on  passing  physically 
and  waiving  exemption.  On  September  30th,  off  we 
went  to  Camp  Upton. 

Upon  discarding  my  "civies,"  I  donned  the  khaki 
and  was  placed  with  the  infantry.  Seven  months  of 
my  training  took  place  in  this  branch  of  the  service. 
The  training  consisted  mostly  of  bayonetting  German 
dummies,  hiking,  exercising,  bombing,  target  shooting, 
gas  attack  drilling,  and  infantry  manouvering. 

February  22nd,  the  "Camp  Upton  Boys,"  as  we 
were  known,  paraded  down  Fifth  Avenue.  The 
crowds  lining  both  sides  of  the  avenue,  were  amazed 
to  see  men  who  were  civilians  only  seven  months  pre- 
vious, transformed  into  such  an  army.  They  mar- 
velled to  see  raw  material  changed  into  snappy  soldiers 
in  so  short  a  time.  This  parade  was  our  "Farewell 
America,"  and  the  cheers  of  the  crowds  were  the  best 
encouragement  that  could  have  been  given  us. 

Finally,  on  April  5th,  1918,  at  four  a.  m.,  we  were 
ordered  to  empty  the  straw  from  our  mattresses  and 
pack  up.  We  were  all  restless  that  day,  awaiting  the 
final  command  to  pull  out  of  camp. 

About  midnight,  we  received  our  emergency  rations 


158         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

of  hash  and  hardtack.  At  two  a.  in..  April  6th,  the 
orders,  "Attention,  count  off!"  were  given,  and  out 

from  camp  we  hiked  with  full  equipment.  In  addi- 
tion, each  soldier  was  given  one  hundred  rounds  of 
ammunition. 

So  began  our  Great  Adventure. 

We  didn't  know  where  we  were  going,  and  what's 
more,  we  didn't  care  a  whoop.  Continually,  we  sang, 
"We  don't  know  where  we're  going,  but  we're  on  our 
way."  Most  of  us  thought  our  next  stop  would  be 
Camp  Merritt  for  ten  days,  but  instead,  we  boarded  the 
British  transport  Justicia ;  about  five  thousand  troops 
were  jammed  in. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  note  that  the  ship  that 
brought  us  over  was  sunk  on  its  way  back  to  the  States. 

Toward  dark  of  the  same  day  we  boarded  her,  the 
gigantic  transport  stole  out  of  the  North  River  with- 
out anyone  on  shore  being  aware  of  the  fact.  Many 
a  soldier  was  so  close  to  his  home  he  could  almost  see 
the  windows,  but  all  last  "Good  byes"  were  denied  us. 
We  were  kept  well  under  cover  until  the  transport  was 
a  good  ways  from  sight  of  the  Statue  of  Liberty. 

For  twenty-four  hours,  we  sailed  north  along  the 
Atlantic  coast,  till  we  reached  Halifax.  From  the 
decks  we  could  still  see  traces  of  the  Halifax  dis- 
aster. 

Our  convoy  consisted  of  nine  more  transports,  mak- 
ing the  necessary  balance  of  strength,  and  away  we 
sailed  to  a  strange  land.  Battleships,  destroyers  and 
cruisers  were  within  sight  most  of  the  trip.  We  cer- 
tainly felt  secure  with  such  wonderful  naval  pro- 
tection. 

Nothing  unusual  occurred  on  our  voyage  across  the 
"big  pond."  Things  were  especially  pleasant  for  me  as 
I  was  made  the  captain's  orderly.  Of  course  we  slept, 
drilled,  and  ate  with  our  life  preservers  on.  If  one 
was  caught  without  it,  he  was  liable  to  a  court  martial. 
"Abandon  ship"  drill  was  held  twice  a  day. 

Two  days  before  arriving,  it  snowed  in  the  morning, 
later  turned   into  hail,  and  by   noon  it  was  raining. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  159 

Still  later  the  sun  shone  so  brightly  that  in  an  hour, 
everything  was  dry.  I've  never  seen  such  startling 
weather. 

On  my  twenty-fourth  birthday,  April  19th,  1918,  we 
arrived  at  Liverpool.  We  went  through  England  rap- 
idly, made  a  short  stay  at  Dover,  and  then,  one  bat- 
talion at  a  time,  we  crossed  the  Channel  in  an  old  tub. 
YVe  were  all  lucky  to  arrive  safely  as  we  missed  three 
floating  mines,  and  on  the  way  back,  the  boat  was  hit 
by  a  mine  and  blown  to  pieces. 

We  reached  Calais,  April  21,  1918.  We  claim  to  be 
the  first  National  Army  Division  to  land  in  France. 

At  Calais,  I  had  my  first  taste  of  war.  We  were  at 
"rest  camp,"  when  our  captain,  John  H.  Prentice,  now 
a  major,  D.  S.  C,  gave  us  a  speech  about  air  raids. 
He  said,  in  part,  "Boys,  it  all  depends  upon  the  weather 
tonight.  Personally,  it  looks  as  if  we  were  booked  for 
a  raid  tonight.  Be  prepared,  for  God's  sake  stay  in 
your  holes,  and  don't  come  out  until  the  attack  is  over. 
You,"  pointing  to  me,  "are  on  blanket  detail.  Should 
any  soldier  be  wounded,  carry  him  in  a  blanket  to  a 
place  of  safety." 

As  if  the  captain  had  been  a  mind  reader,  at  nine 
p.  m.,  while  each  squad  was  in  its  respective  hole,  I 
heard  the  buzzing  of  motors  overhead.  Suddenly  the 
sky  opened  up  and  the  Jerries  dropped  aerial  bombs 
that  shook  the  ground  like  an  earthquake.  French 
searchlights  played  across  the  sky,  trying  to  spot  the 
enemy  planes,  while  anti-aircraft  gunfire  was  opened 
toward  the  sky  by  French  gunners.  This  tumult 
lasted  about  three  hours,  then  eight  planes,  now  out  of 
ammunition,  were  forced  to  retire  to  their  lines.  Two 
were  brought  down  by  the  accuracy  of  the  French 
gunners.  However,  much  property  damage  was  done. 
Luckily,  no  casualties  occurred  as  we  were  quite  will- 
ing to  stick  to  our  holes,  and  the  bombs  fell  about 
five  hundred  yards  from  our  section. 

For  the  rest  of  my  life,  I  shall  remember  our  warm 
reception,  that  first  day  in  France. 

At   Calais,   we  turned   in   our  American   rifles    for 


160  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

British  ones,  we  also  received  British  gas  masks  and 
helmets.  We  soon  learned  the  reason  for  this,  we  were 
to  be  attached  to  the  B.  E.  F.  (British  Expeditionary 
Force). 

Our  tour  of  France  then  began.  We  left  Calais  and 
entered  our  forty  homines  or  eight  chevaux  cars,  in 
other  words,  these  cars  were  intended  to  accommodate 
forty  men  or  eight  horses.  In  the  States  we  call  them 
box  or  cattle  Cars ;  they  move  about  as  fast  as  a  mule. 
As  a  rule,  troop  trains  move  very  slowly.  After  twen- 
ty-four hours  of  shaking  up  in  these  cattle  cars,  we 
arrived  at  our  destination  and  hiked  ten  kilometers  to 
a  village  where  we  were  billeted.  Some  of  the  men 
were  billeted  in  stables  after  chasing  the  horses  out, 
some  in  chicken  houses,  and  others  where  pigs  had 
been  kept. 

Xow  we  were  about  forty  kilometers  behind  the 
Belgian  front.  After  three  weeks  intensive  training 
with  the  B.  E.  F.,  we  packed  again  for  another  hike 
and  ride.  This  journey  brought  us  to  the  Arras  front. 
We  were  held  there  as  reserves  for  the  British,  mean- 
while keeping  up  our  intensive  training  back  of  the 
lines.  A  company  of  Americans  and  three  companies 
of  British  troops  trained  together  as  a  battalion,  under 
the  instruction  of  a  British  major. 

A  three  weeks'  hike  followed.  We  sang  as  we  hiked 
over  the  dusty  roads  of  France.  Singing  always 
seemed  to  make  our  packs  lighter.  We  were  known 
as  the  "Singing  Division." 

For  military  reasons,  we  never  hiked  through  a  town 
or  city  in  the  day  time  but  always  waited  for  dark. 
We  passed  more  towns  and  villages  than  I  have  hair 
on  my  head.  Our  field  kitchen  went  astray  and  was 
lost  for  a  few  days,  along  with  our  mess  sergeant  and 
the  rest  of  the  "greaseballs."  We  had  to  sponge  on 
other  companies  for  our  "chow." 

We  were  now  ten  kilometers  from  the  Lorraine 
front.  I  picked  up  a  circular,  dropped  from  a  Boche 
plane.  "Good  bye  Rainbow  Division ;  good  luck,"  it 
said.     "Hello,  Seventy-seventh ;  we're  ready  for  you." 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  161 

On  our  way  to  the  trenches  we  met  the  fighting 
Sixty-ninth.  The  road  was  pitch  dark  and  it  meant 
death  to  light  a  match.  So  a  series  of  greetings  were 
exchanged,  such  as,  "Who's  from  Harlem?"  "I'm 
from  Brooklyn."  "Any  of  you  guys  from  Yorkville 
or  the  Bronx?"  "Say,  Buddy,  don't  forget  you're 
from  New  York.  Give  'em  hell !  We'll  see  you  at  the 
Marne,  so  long." 

I  will  never  forget  June  20th,  the  first  day  in  the 
front  line  trenches  I  was  put  on  post  No  5  where  I 
found  two  Americans  and  a  Frenchman.  I  relieved 
the  two  Americans  of  the  Forty-second  Division,  and 
they  said,  "Don't  worry,  Buddy,  you're  as  safe  here  as 
you  would  be  in  Times  Square." 

I  didn't  know  how  truthful  they  were  but  anyhow, 
I  was  kind  of  shaky  and  nervous,  but  by  the  third  day, 
I  was  over  that.  I  had  great  confidence  in  my  French 
comrade  and  that  helped  a  lot.  I  grew  so  curious  to 
get  a  peep  at  No  Man's  Land  that  I  stuck  my  head 
over  the  trench.  Click,  Click,  Click,  whizzed  the  bul- 
lets over  my  head.  The  Frenchman  excitedly  warned 
me  to  keep  my  head  down  unless  I  was  tired  of  carry- 
ing it  around. 

The  three  days  in  the  trenches  were  quiet  because  of 
the  heavy  rain  spell.  But  the  fourth  day  was  quiet 
and  I  had  a  hunch  something  was  going  to  happen.  I 
was  then  relieved  and  put  in  the  second  line  trench. 

I  am  now  going  to  tell  you  of  my  experience  in  my 
first  attack. 

June  24th,  I  was  on  Gas  Guard  near  my  officers' 
dugout.  In  case  of  a  gas  attack,  my  orders  were  to 
ring  the  bell  and  also  grind  away  on  the  Claxon  or 
Siren.  I  was  put  on  guard  at  two  A.  M.  Half  an 
hour  later,  I  saw  green  and  red  flares  shoot  up  from 
Fritzie's  lines.  That  meant  a  gas  attack  and  raid.  All 
of  a  sudden  the  Fritzies  let  loose  with  high  explosives 
and  gas  shell.  I  began  to  ring  the  bell  and  sound  the 
Claxon.  The  alarm  passed  all  along  the  line  and  to 
the  rear.  Everyone  had  his  mask  over  his  face,  wait- 
ing for  orders.     Fritzie  continued  his  shelling  (5,000 


162         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

>hell).  from  two  thirty-five  A.  M.  till  five-thirty  A.  M. 
My  officer  signaled  for  an  artillery  barrage  so  we 
traded  them  some  of  our  special  brand  of  Hell  in  re- 
turn for  what  the}-  were  sending  us. 

Next  thing  we  knew,  the  Prussian  Guards  were 
coming  over  at  us.  All  our  rifles  and  bombs  were 
thrown  into  action  against  the  tide  of  the  advancing 
Prussians.  Our  front  lines  and  Communication  lines 
were  smashed.  Our  telephone  system  was  put  out  of 
commission.  Still  the  Boches  could  not  gain  an  inch. 
A  large  number  of  our  men  were  killed,  wounded, 
gassed,  and  shell  shocked.  Six  of  our  men  were  burnt 
to  a  crisp  by  the  liquid  fire  the  Germans  sent  against 
us.  We  held  our  ground.  Gradually,  after  eternities 
of  agony,  the  attack  weakened,  then  ceased  completely. 
Instantly  with  new  strength,  we  pushed  our  advantage. 
The  Boche  line  wavered  then  retreated. 

xAfter  the  attack,  a  number  of  our  men  were  de- 
tailed to  bury  the  dead  Prussians  that  were  found  near 
our  lines. 

All  was  quiet,  following  that  attack,  and  on  June 
29th,  another  battalion  relieved  us  and  we  went  to 
Baccarat,  fifteen  kilos  from  the  front  to  rest  up  and 
get  a  cootie  scrub  down. 

On  July  4th,  our  company  and  a  company  of  French 
soldiers  held  a  parade  through  the  town  of  Baccarat 
in  memoriam  of  those  who  had  fallen  on  the  field  of 
battle. 

After  several  days'  rest,  on  July  8th,  we  returned 
to  the  support  of  the  same  front.  Such  propaganda 
as,  "We  will  have  dinner  in  Paris,  July  14th,"  was 
thrown  down  from  Hun  airplanes.  We  were  detailed 
to  make  dugouts,  erect  telephone  wire  system,  and 
other  minor  details.  Now  and  then  we  could  find  time 
to  write  a  letter,  and  believe  me,  nothing  was  so  wel- 
come as  a  letter  from  home.  Many  a  soldier  would 
rather  have  missed  his  "chow"  than  stop  reading  his 
letter,  because  it  was  from  the  U.  S.  A. 

By  July  21st,  we  were  holding  the  front  line  again. 
I  was   then  a   runner,  delivering  messages   from  the 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 163 

front  to  the  rear.  The  boys  called  me  Joe  the  Rat 
Killer,  because  often  I  mistook  a  rat,  the  size  of  a 
cat,  for  a  Boche,  and  opened  fire. 

I  was  also  a  pigeon  carrier.  That  was  very  interest- 
ing. The  pigeon's  life  was  ranked  higher  than  mine, 
as  at  all  times  the  pigeon  was  to  receive  protection 
first.  My  duty  was  to  carry  six  or  eight  birds  in  a  gas 
proof  basket  on  my  trips  to  the  front  and  if  all  other 
means  of  communication  failed,  the  pigeons  could  be 
used  as  a  last  resort  to  deliver  messages.  Two  of  these 
birds  would  always  be  let  loose  at  the  same  time,  each 
carrying  the  same  message,  so  that  if  one  went  astray, 
the  other  would  reach  the  coop.  The  messages  are  in 
code  and  rolled  like  a  capsule.  This  paper  capsule  is 
placed  in  a  small  tube  that  is  attached  to  the  inside  of 
the  bird's  left  leg.  The  pigeons  are  trained  to  reach 
headquarters  from  the  front. 

On  July  30  I  safely  guided  part  of  the  37th  Division 
(Buckeye)  to  the  Lorraine  sector  front,  and  then  the 
Seventy-seventh  withdrew,  after  doing  its  bit  for  forty- 
five  days. 

All  kinds  of  rumors  as  to  our  next  jump  were  on 
everybody's  lips.  The  chaplain  said  we  were  going 
to  "a  place  where  we  won't  need  any  gas  masks  or 
helmets."  Some  of  the  boys  bet  two  to  one  we  were 
going  to  Italy;  others  surmised  Russia. 

A  ten-kilometer  hike,  a  twenty-four  hour  box-car 
ride,  another  short  hike,  and  we  camped  in  an  open 
field.  We  waited  three  days  for  orders.  The  sealed 
orders  came,  and  we  hiked  a  short  distance  till  we 
reached  a  road  lined  with  lorries  (French  Ford  trucks), 
driven  by  coolies.  They  certainly  could  travel.  We 
sped  in  these  lorries  several  hours  before  we  noticed  a 
sign  on  the  road  reading,  'This  way  to  Chateau- 
Thierry."  We  all  knew  our  destination  then  and  were 
ready  for  open  warfare. 

We  stopped  as  support  in  the  Belleau  Wrood.  Wre 
helped  bury  the  bodies  of  many  Germans,  Americans, 
and  horses. 

Belleau  Wood  was  stagnant  with  dead. 


164  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

On  we  moved  toward  the  Vesle  River.  The  Vesle 
sector  was  a  slaughtering  house.  We  advanced  through 
heavy  artillery  and  rear  guard  fire.  We  certainly  had 
a  hot  time  crossing  the  Vesle  River.  We  crossed  the 
river  on  a  span  of  a  sunken  bridge  that  was  struck  by 
a  G.  I.  C.  (galvanized  iron  can). 

Our  regiment  is  given  credit  for  capturing  the  city 
of  Fismes. 

After  the  capture  of  Fismes,  we  advanced  in  open 
order  formation.  Three  days  we  advanced  with  a 
shovel  in  one  hand  and  a  rifle  in  the  other.  Do  you 
know  how  the  doughboy  values  his  shovel?  He  will 
part  with  his  hat,  his  rations,  canteen,  or  even  his 
souvenirs,  but  his  shovel  he  cherishes  only  second  to 
his  life.  It's  his  one  great  protection  and  he  can't  bear 
it  out  of  his  sight. 

During  our  advance  we  would  "dig  in"  at  night  and 
lie  in  those  "funk"  holes  several  hours  while  the  Ger- 
man artillery  was  giving  us  Hell.  At  the  end  of  the 
third  day,  a  front  line  was  established  on  the  outskirts 
of  a  town  held  by  the  Boche.  After  consolidating  our 
front  line,  we  were  taken  out  and  placed  in  support. 
While  in  support  I  was  detailed  to  carry  ammunition 
and  food  to  the  front.  On  those  dangerous  missions 
I  had  to  duck  many  a  shell.  W'ater  was  very  scarce 
in  that  sector.  I  remember  filling  my  canteen  one  time 
in  a  creek  where  dead  Germans  lay.  To  add  to  the 
horror  the  water  was  filled  with  dead  flies.  Everytime 
I  took  a  mouthful  of  water,  I  would  spit  out  the  dead 
flies. 

After  several  days  in  support,  we  were  put  in  the 
front  again.  We  gave  the  Jerries  all  we  had,  chasing 
them  each  day.  While  pursuing  these  Boche,  we  had 
to  pass  through  their  deadly  artillery  fire.  German 
airplanes  overhead  spit  a  rain  of  bullets  upon  us  from 
their  machine  guns.  Also  German  machine  guns  had 
been  placed  upon  the  roofs  of  chateaux,  and  many  a 
brave  soldier  was  made  a  target. 

September  10  we  were  relieved  near  the  Aisne  River 
by  an  Italian  division.     I  was  still  unwounded,  though 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  165 

how  I  came  through  this  last  scrap  is  a  miracle.  I 
sure  had  a  bunch  of  narrow  escapes. 

We  piled  into  French  lorries,  driven  by  French 
chauffeurs,  on  September  17,  and  drove  twenty-four 
hours  through  rain  to  billets  at  Le  Chatlier.  Here  we 
remained  for  a  two-day  rest. 

At  one  A.  M.  September  20,  we  were  ordered  to 
pack  up,  and  without  a  change  of  underwear  or  socks 
for  about  five  weeks,  our  thirty-mile  hike  to  the 
Argonne  began. 

Before  the  Meuse-Argonne  offensive  opened  up,  we 
were  given  ninety  replacements.  Now  the  company 
was  again  at  full  war  strength   (255  men). 

On  September  26th,  at  two-thirty  A.  M.  I  heard  the 
loudest  noise  any  man  has  ever  heard. 

The  Allied  drive  that  ended  the  war  was  opened.  ■ 

The  sky  turned  red.  Every  gun  that  was  on  wheels, 
from  French  75s  to  the  great  naval  guns,  just  cut  loose. 
The  hills  trembled ;  Hell-on-Earth  opened  up. 

We  dashed  to  the  German  support  lines  of  the  Ar- 
gonne, and  we  were  there  on  September  29th.  We 
took  over  the  front  lines  at  Depot  de  Machines,  Octo- 
ber 3rd. 

The  front  lines  consisted  of  "funk"  holes  in  the 
depths  of  the  deadly  Argonne  Woods.  It  was  mid- 
night when  my  buddy  and  I  entered  our  "funk  hole" 
in  the  front  line.  The  Germans  were  from  seventy- 
five  to  a  hundred  yards  away.  After  remaining  all 
night  in  our  hole,  at  six-fifteen  A.  M.  October  4,  my 
officer  passed  the  word  around  for  us  to  attack  in 
a  few  minutes.  With  fixed  bayonets  my  buddy  and  I 
went  over  the  top  at  six-thirty  A.  M.,  acting  as  scouts. 

Our  artillery  did  not  send  over  a  barrage  for  fear 
of  killing  our  own  men  who  were  so  close  to  the  Ger- 
mans. Also  they  were  afraid  of  hitting  our  men  of 
the  "Lost  Battalion"  who  were  surrounded.  It  was 
the  mission  of  the  scouts  to  break  through  the  line  of 
deadly  German  machine  gun  nests,  and  save  the  "Lost 
Battalion." 

On  this  trip  I  carried  my  combat  pack  of  "iron  ra- 


166  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

tions,"  and  blanket,  220  rounds  of  ammunition,  a  bag 
of  eight  bombs  slung  over  my  shoulder,  an  overcoat, 
shovel,  rifle  with  fixed  bayonet,  gas  mask,  helmet,  and 
canteen  of  water. 

The  morning  was  hazy,  with  a  fog  in  the  distance. 
My  advance  was  very  slow,  a  step  at  a  time.  In  fact 
1  had  to  "swim"  through  the  heavy  shrubbery  and 
bushes  of  thorns.  We  were  warned  to  be  careful  of 
machine  gunners  placed  in  big  trees.  Each  big  tree  I 
passed,  I  said  to  myself,  "God  be  with  me!" 

In  an  hour  I  covered  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 
yards.  All  was  quiet,  no  Jerries  in  sight.  I  "smelled 
a  rat"  when  my  advance  was  halted  by  barbed  wire. 
The  other  scouts,  on  the  same  line  with  me,  and  I  took 
out  our  wire  clippers  and  were  about  to  cut  the  wire  to 
let  the  following  platoons  through,  when  suddenly 
the  enemy  opened  fire  with  machine  guns. 

The  first  to  fall,  hit  in  the  knee,  was  Tom  O'Rourke. 
I  took  the  prone  position,  using  a  big  stump  for  my 
head  protection.  The  only  thing  for  me  to  do  was 
shoot  for  all  I  was  worth.  Meanwhile,  the  men  back 
of  me  were  on  their  bellies  too.  A  battle  royal  was  in 
progress.  Every  one  of  our  rifles  and  machine  guns 
was  in  action.  We  began  to  throw  hand  grenades,  too. 
The  Germans,  only  fifteen  yards  back  of  the  barbed 
wire,  threw  their  potato  mashers  (hand  grenades)  at 
us.  When  the  bursts  of  fire  from  the  German  ma- 
chine gun  nests  stopped,  I  could  hear  the  excited  Ger- 
man commands.  The  machine  guns  in  front  and  on 
the  right  of  me  were  quiet,  but  the  one  on  the  left  was 
still  in  action. 

Then  at  last  I  got  mine. 

My  entire  body  was  shaken  by  a  bullet  that  pene- 
trated the  heel  of  my  left  foot.  It  felt  as  if  someone 
drove  a  nail  through  and  through  my  foot. 

Sergeant  Quevdo  and  Corporal  Ivins  dressed  my 
wound  while  the  bullets  whizzed  over  our  heads.  I 
was  ordered  to  crawl  to  the  rear.  I  crawled  one  hun- 
dred  yards,   then   lay    two    hours    on    the    battlefield. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  167 

When  1  was  finally  placed  on  a  stretcher,  I  left  a  big 
pool  of  blood  behind. 

While  I  was  being  carried  to  the  first-aid  station, 
a  German  sniper  jumped  out  from  behind  a  tree  and 
opened  fire  with  his  automatic  at  the  stretcher  bearers 
and  me. 

Luckily,  the  bullets  missed  us  and  I  arrived  safely 
at  the  first  aid  station,  smoking  a  cigarette. 

At  Base  No.  18,  I  was  operated  on,  forty  hours 
after  being  wounded.  Ten  days  later  I  was  evacuated 
as  a  stretcher  case  to  Base  No.  24  at  Limoges.  When 
the  Armistice  was  signed,  I  was  still  a  bed  patient,  so 
was  again  evacuated  as  a  stretcher  case  to  Base  No. 
22  at  Bordeaux.  Following  fifteen  successive  days  of 
rain  in  Bordeaux,  I  was  sent  to  the  States  as  a  crutch 
case. 

After  a  month  at  Ellis  Island,  I  was  transferred  to 
the  Base  Hospital  at  Camp  Upton,  my  old  home. 

I  am  now  convalescing,  and  expect  to  be  discharged 
in  time  to  wear  my  straw  hat. 

Thank  God,  this  Summer's  hat  will  be  lighter  than 
last  year's  "tin  derby." 

P.  S. — The  German  who  sniped  me  has  "gone  west" 
and  is  now  "pushing  up  daisies."  My  stretcher  bearers 
killed  him. 


PRIVATE  GEORGE  HART 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 169 

IV 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES    OF   THE   77TH,   38TH,   42ND,   26TH 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

Private  George  Hart 

Bom  in  Ohio.  Enlisted  July  1,  1917.  Assigned  83rd  En- 
gineers. Overseas  July  8.  Cantigny,  Chateau-Thierry. 
Wounded  at  the  Marne.  Good  work  of  38th  Division,  the 
Pennsylvania  National  Guard.  Appreciation  of  Salvation 
Army. 

His  Own  Story 

Ohio  couldn't  hold  me  when  this  country  went  into 
the  war.  I  felt  that  it  was  my  war,  and  that  I  just 
had  to  get  in  it  and  help  do  the  job.  The  German  had 
been  making  a  big  noise  about  what  a  fighter  he  was, 
and  I  wanted  to  find  out  if  he  was  as  good  as  he 
claimed  to  be. 

I  enlisted  at  Camp  Sherman  on  July  1st,  and  on 
July  8th  was  on  my  way  overseas.  That's  pretty  close 
to  a  record  for  a  quick  get-away  to  France. 

My  regiment  was  the  first  of  the  engineers  to  land, 
and  we  had  our  work  cut  out  for  us  before  we  were 
off  the  ship.  We  had  come  to  France  primarily  to 
fight  and  yet,  for  a  time,  it  seemed  we  might  as  well 
be  at  work  on  road  building  in  the  States. 

But  it  came  to  us. 

We  were  moved  up  to  Cantigny  to  get  the  roads  and 
bridges  in  shape,  for  our  First  Division  was  due  to 
go  in  there  and  try  their  teeth  on  the  Hun. 

From  there  we  slipped  away  and  took  the  road  to 
Chateau-Thierry,  where  our  men  were  already  fight- 
ing, though,  of  course,  we  did  not  know  it  at  the  time. 
The  7th  Machine  Gun  Battalion  of  the  3rd  Division 
(motorized)   had  rolled  into  Chateau-Thierry  on  the 


170  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

afternoon  of  May  31st.  For  more  than  twenty-four 
hours,  they  had  been  pounding  the  roads ;  they  had  had 
no  food  in  that  time,  yet  they  went  immediately  into 
action  in  the  town,  in  support  of  the  French  Colonials. 
This  unit  was,  so  to  speak,  the  ace  of  the  machine  gun 
outfits  of  our  expeditionary  force.  Its  gunners  were 
sharpshooters  with  a  machine  gun,  and  the  effect  of 
their  fire  on  the  German  troops  was  to  slow  down  the 
advance  at  that  point,  and  between  our  machine  gun- 
ners and  the  French  Colonials,  the  German  failed  to 
cross  the  river. 

I  did  not  see  that  fight,  but  was  in  the  town  while 
we  were  on  duty  in  that  sector.  From  members  of 
the  Machine  Gun  Battalion  who  were  in  the  fight  and 
survived  it,  I  had  the  story  of  the  fight. 

The  battle  for  the  river  crossing  was  fought  to  a 
finish  in  the  town.  The  French  troops  were  in  the 
houses,  on  the  roofs,  and  behind  barricades.  The  Ger- 
mans also  had  got  well  in,  and  had  machine  guns  and 
some  field  pieces  in  action.  Fresh  troops  were  con- 
stantly coming  up  to  add  weight  to  the  German 
thrust,  while  the  French,  and  the  boys  of  the  Third, 
had  to  stick  it  out  with  what  they  had. 

The  town  was  on  fire  in  places,  adding  to  the  heat 
of  the  day,  and  the  black  smoke  afforded  a  screen, 
now  to  one  side,  and  then  to  the  other. 

Under  cover  of  machine  gun  and  grenade  barrages, 
the  Germans  charged  in  masses  again  and  again.  The 
guns  ripped  them  to  ribbons,  but  a  few  men,  borne  for- 
ward by  the  mass  behind,  would  reach  a  house  or 
barricade. 

It  would  then  be  hand  to  hand.  Houses  were  won 
and  lost,  won  and  lost.  On  roofs,  in  cellars,  and 
through  riddled  dwellings  the  endless  strife  roared  like 
a  great  conflagration.  Men  drilled  through  and 
through  by  machine  gun  or  rifle  bullets,  fought  on  till 
they  died,  still  fighting,  from  loss  of  blood. 

Up  from  the  South,  the  rest  of  the  Third  Division 
was  pressing  on  toward  the  river.  The  dust  hung  in 
clouds  above  the  roads  over  which  they  marched  to 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 171 

their  first  taste  of  battle.  They  sent  word  before  them 
to  their  battalion  in  the  town,  that  the  Division  was 
coming  to  their  aid,  "hell  for  leather." 

"Hang  on !  Hang  on !"  was  the  battle  cry  of  the 
gunners  as  they  fought  and  died  in  Chateau-Thierry 
that  day. 

Other  units  of  our  army  were  also  converging  on 
Chateau-Thierry.  The  Second  Division,  composed  of 
Marines  and  Regulars,  had  passed  Meaux,  where  they 
left  the  camions,  and  marched  toward  the  fight. 

And  we  men  of  the  Engineers  were  drawing  near. 

From  noon  of  the  first  of  June,  until  way  into  the 
night,  troops  were  reporting  and  being  sent  to  their 
places  in  the  line.  After  midnight,  the  Engineers 
reached  the  headquarters  of  Colonel  A.  W.  Catlin.  We 
had  a  few  hours  of  sleep,  and  then  with  the  first  light 
of  day,  set  to  work  helping  to  improve  the  defensive 
positions,  where  the  men  of  the  Second  Division  had 
been  told  to  "hold  to  the  last." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second  of  June,  I 
looked  up  from  where  I  was  working  and  saw  the 
Huns  coming. 

From  the  woods,  the  ground  sloped  toward  the 
American  lines.  There  were  patches  of  brush,  and 
then  well  tilled  wheat  fields  where  the  grain  was  al- 
ready yellow. 

The  sun  was  glinting  on  the  enemy's  bayonets  and 
dancing  in  spots  of  irridescent  fire  from  a  thousand 
points  in  his  equipment. 

The  attack  was  made  by  two  separate  columns  of 
troops  whose  movements  were  coordinated  with  that 
precision  of  movement  in  which  the  Prussian  delights. 
The  columns  were  deployed  in  platoon  fronts. 

French  troops  had  been  screening  the  American 
lines.  Before  the  German  advance,  the  French  fell 
back  in  ragged  and  dispirited  skirmish  lines,  whose 
futile  fire  the  enemy  ignored. 

I  lost  for  the  moment  all  consciousness  of  danger, 
for  I  had  become  a  spectator  at  a  great  motion  picture. 

"Gimme   a   light,   Buddie,"   the   voice   of   a   young 


1 72  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Marine  broke  in  on  me,  and  brought  me  back  to  earth. 

My  hands  were  trembling  as  I  fumbled  for  a  match. 
My  mouth  was  dry,  my  lips  cracked.  I  tried  to  wet 
them  with  my  tongue,  but  the  very  spit  within  my 
mouth  had  vanished. 

That  is  one  of  the  strange  things  about  this  war 
business.  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  about  it  since 
I  came  home,  and  could  go  back  over  times  like  this  of 
which  I  write.  The  struggle  between  physical  fear 
and  spiritual  courage  that  takes  place  in  a  man  has 
queer  reflections  or  reactions  in  his  body. 

I  peered  down  our  line  at  the  fellows  crouching  in 
their  shell  holes.  As  I  recall  it  now,  it  seems  to  me 
that  they  were  figgety  as  they  poised  on  the  rim  of 
their  first  big  action. 

The  German  attack  was  against  a  battalion  of  the 
Fifth  Marines  commanded  by  a  Major,  or  Colonel, 
Wise.     I  forget  his  rank. 

Our  guns  held  their  breath.  The  rifles  seemed  to 
be  seeking  courage  to  lift  their  puny  voices. 

I  heard  the  veteran  "non-coms"  talking  to  the  men. 
Their  words  came  in  staccato  bursts. 

"Pick  your  men  !    Fire  low  and  slow  !    Keep  cool !" 

There  was  much  swearing. 

From  our  rear,  came  a  sudden  rising  burst  of  sound. 
For  all  the  world,  it  sounded  like  the  grandstand  at 
Belmont  roaring: 

"They're  off !" 

A  squall  of  shrapnel  burst  above  the  German 
platoons. 

The  chatter  of  machine  guns  struck  through  the 
roar  of  the  guns  and  the  smash  of  the  shell  bursts. 
Rip!  R-i-p !  Brrrrr  the  rifles  joined  in  the  symphony. 

Where  platoons  had  been  marching  bravely,  a  soli- 
tary man  or  two  stumbled  about  drunkenly.  The 
ground  was  heaped  with  writhing  bodies.  The  pop- 
pies whose  bright  red  faces  dotted  the  wheat  were 
watered  with  the  wine  of  life.  Sour  wine  to  be  sure, 
since  it  came  from  German  veins. 

Three  times  the  Huns  tried  it ;  then  sought  shelter 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  173 

in  the  woods  whence  they  had  come  forth  so  con- 
fidently. 

There  our  guns  followed  them,  combing  the  thickets 
with  shrapnel  and  H.  E.,  to  glean  the  last  survivor  for 
the  grim  harvest. 

How  different  had  been  the  result  from  the  charge 
of  our  men  at  Cantigny !  Yet  there,  the  Germans  were 
in  greater  force  and  better  positions  than  we  were  at 
Chateau-Thierry. 

There  was  much  joy  among  the  Marines. 

The  services  of  the  Engineers  were  no  longer  needed 
at  that  place.    We  moved  under  cover  of  the  dark. 

You  may  think  I  am  overdoing  it. 

Here's  a  clipping  wThich  shows  what  the  Germans 
thought  of  it.  It  is  the  report  of  a  Hun  Intelligence 
Officer  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  our  men.  It  is 
official. 

"The  2nd  American  Division  may  be  considered  a 
very  good  division,  perhaps  even  an  assault  division. 
The  various  attacks  of  the  two  regiments  upon  Belleau 
Wood,  were  executed  with  dash  and  intrepedity.  The 
moral  effect  of  our  fire  was  not  able  to  seriously  check 
the  advance  of  the  infantry.  The  nerves  of  the  Ameri- 
cans are  not  yet  worn  out." 

"Belleau  Wood" — I  stand  corrected,  for  I  have  writ- 
ten of  it,  as  at  Chateau-Thierry.  The  7th  Machine 
Gun  Battalion  was  at  Chateau-Thierry.  It  was  at. 
BelleauWood,  the  fighting  of  the  Marines  took  place, 
and  where  the  Engineers  helped  construct  the  defenses. 
We  fellows  have  got  in  the  habit  of  calling  the  whole 
muss  Chateau-Thierry. 

Things  happened  quickly  after  that;  as  well  as  be- 
fore it ;  I  may  not  get  the  exact  sequence  of  events,  but 
the  dates  are,  I  think,  correct  to  the  dot,  for  they  were 
stamped  in  blood  and  not  easily  forgotten. 

The  Germans  had  struck  at  the  French  Army  of 
General  Gouraud  on  the  high  ground  beyond  Rheims. 
A  disastrous  defeat  for  the  Hun  was  the  result  there. 
His  luck  had  changed.  The  Yankees  had  brought 
their  baseball  jinx  with  them,  and  the  German  staff 


1 7  1  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

had  developed  a  glass  arm.  They  put  in  a  new 
pitcher,  and  his  star  ball  was  an  attempt  to  straddle 
the  Marne  and  flank  our  positions. 

This  eruption  broke  out  between  Chatillon  and  Dor- 
mans,  two  towns  on  the  Marne. 

The  Third  Division,  bearing  itself  bravely  in  its 
first  fighting,  was  in  the  line  south  of  the  Marne  from 
Chateau-Thierry  to  Mezy,  some  eight  kilometers  east- 
ward, where  between  Chatillon  and  Dormans,  the 
spear  head  of  the  German  advance  was  across  the 
Marne. 

To  the  south  of  Dormans,  units  of  the  splendid 
Pennsylvania  Guard,  the  28th  Division,  were  well  for- 
ward, with  orders  to  stay  where  they  were  and  hold  the 
position  at  any  cost. 

Upon  these  untried  and  inexperienced  National 
Guardsmen,  burst  just  such  a  storm  as  the  Fifth  Regi- 
ment of  Marines  had  faced  at  Belleau  Wood. 

There  were  not  many  of  the  Pennsylvania  lads  on 
the  spot,  and  they  lacked  the  balance  in  the  ranks 
which  the  veterans  and  non-commissioned  officers  of 
long  training  in  the  Marines  had  given  the  Fifth. 

But  they  had  been  sent  to  France  to  fight,  and  fight 
they  did. 

If  the  men  of  the  38th  were  not  sharpshooters,  they 
were  nevertheless  well  trained  in  the  use  of  the  rifle, 
and  very,  very  many  of  them  had  been  hunters  from 
boyhood.  They  were  used  to  the  open,  eager  to  try 
their  mettle  against  the  Hun,  and  their  position  was 
not  so  unfavorable,  except  for  the  fact  that  it  needed 
to  be  held  by  more  men. 

Here,  too,  I  did  not  see  the  fight,  but  went  over  the 
ground  afterward,  when  the  Hun  had  been  thrown 
back  across  the  river. 

In  that  fight  by  the  Marne,  the  boys  from  Pennsyl- 
vania established  the  reputation  of  the  National  Guard. 

The  attack  upon  the  Pennsylvania  position  was  se- 
vere, sustained,  and  well  supported  by  artillery,  but 
it  was  met  with  torrents  of  rifle  fire  from  the  American 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 175 

line,  from  the  shell  holes,  fox  holes,  and  brush,  where 
the  men  had  taken  cover. 

From  that  fight  but  a  mere  handful  of  men  returned ; 
they  came  with  laurel,  however,  for  they  had  really 
stemmed  the  German  tide,  which  was  turned  into  a 
definite  retreat  as  soon  as  other  forces  of  ours  could 
advance. 

It  may  have  been  the  valor  of  inexperience  the  Key- 
stone Division  men  displayed  that  day,  but  they  cer- 
tainly proved  they  could  be  relied  upon  in  a  desperate 
emergency  to  obey  orders  and  die  at  their  posts  with 
the  firmness  of  veterans. 

The  place  where  they  fought  was  a  shambles,  even 
when  I  saw  it. 

It  may  seem  that  I  have  not  written  my  own  story, 
but  of  events  of  which  I  only  know  by  hearsay. 

I  do  it  for  the  reason  that  in  all  I  have  heard  since 
I  came  home  of  the  fighting  in  the  Chateau-Thierry 
salient,  I  have  heard  nor  seen  no  mention  of  the  part 
played  by  the  gallant  38th  Pennsylvania,  and  I  want 
to  do  them  justice. 

As  the  Hun  reeled  back  before  the  blows  struck  by 
the  Second,  Third,  and  38th  Divisions,  and  our  men 
reached  the  Marne,  the  demand  came  to  the  engineers 
to  bridge  the  river  that  the  troops  might  cross  to  push 
their  advantage. 

Certainly  of  all  the  unhealthy  jobs  I  know  of,  with 
the  exception  of  testing  parachutes,  that  of  an  army 
engineer,  bridging  a  river  in  the  face  of  the  enemy's 
fire,  takes  the  palm,  gold  star,  and  all  the  other 
trappings. 

The  north  bank  of  the  Marne  was  sown  with  ma- 
chine guns,  manned  by  desperate  men.  On  the  hills 
back  of  the  river,  German  guns  were  in  position  and 
making  splendid  practice  against  us.  Our  own  artillery 
was  trying  to  silence  the  enemy  guns,  while  our  own 
machine  guns  challenged  the  foe  across  the  water. 

There  I  was  wounded,  and  just  managed  to  work 
my  way  back  to  the  bank,  where  the  Red  Cross  men 
got  me  and  sent  me  back  to  the  dressing  station,  from 


176         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

whence  1   traveled  on  to  the  rear,  through  different 
hospitals,   until    I    found   myself   back   in   the   United 

Stan-. 

1  had  almost  forgotten  what  is  now  perhaps  the  most 
important  thing  of  all.  The  regular  provision  for  look- 
ing out  for  us  "over  there"  was  supplemented  by  the 
work  of  various  relief  organizations.  They  all  did 
good  work  so  far  as  I  could  see,  although  some 
preached  too  much  and  practiced  too  little. 

But  the  Salvation  Army  certainly  were  our  friends 
from  start  to  finish. 

Xo  matter  how  rotten  the  weather  was  when  we 
came  tramping  back  from  the  trenches,  how  late  the 
night,  they  were  there  to  cheer  us  with  the  sweet  kindly 
faces  of  their  women,  the  brave,  hearty  companionship 
of  their  men,  who  understood  us.  They  could  get  be- 
neath our  skins  and  find  out  what  ailed  us. 

The  fire  of  the  enemy  never  stopped  them  and  never 
seemed  to  worry  them.  Where  strong  men  shook  like 
leaves  in  a  storm,  the  girls  smiled  and  passed  out 
food  to  us. 

The  Army — I  mean  our  fighting  He  Army  can  never 
never  begin  to  pay  its  debt  to  the  Salvation  Army. 
They  made  good  with  us  over  there,  and  it's  up  to  us 
to  make  good  with  them  over  here. 

The  mothers  and  fathers,  the  wives  and  sisters  and 
children  of  the  boys  who  were  in  France  can  never 
give  enough  of  money  to  the  Salvation  Army,  enough 
of  brotherly  love  to  their  fellow  men  to  even  approxi- 
mately even  the  scales. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 177 

V 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES   OF  THE   77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

Lieutenant  Sydney  Schoenfeld 

Born  in  New  York  City,  January  19,  1894.  Resides  in  New 
York  at  854  Hewitt  Place.  Rutgers  College.  Enlisted  as  a 
private  in  C.  A.  C.  Overseas  zvith  505th  Engineers.  Action 
on  Toul  front.  Wounded  Champagne  front  and  sent  to 
officers'  school.  Attached  French  4th  Army  Staff  as  Intelli- 
gence Officer  and  commissioned  Lieutenant.  Croix  de  Guerre 
with  palm  for  service  at  Hill  354.  Wounded  again  and  cited. 
Cited  again  on  September  29. 

His  Own  Story 

I  gave  up  finishing  my  college  course  to  enlist  as  a 
private  in  the  Coast  Artillery  on  Decoration  Day,  1917. 
The  following  December,  I  was  sent  overseas  with  the 
505th  Engineers.  Having  been  made  first  sergeant  of 
Company  C  of  that  regiment  after  arriving  in  France, 
with  about  85  men,  I  went  to  the  Toul  front  to  lay 
concrete  emplacements  for  our  big  naval  guns. 

We  were  making  ready  even  then  for  the  great  St. 
Mihiel  drive,  which  took  place  some  months  later, 
ahead  of  schedule  time.  On  this  work  we  were  under 
fire  all  the  time,  losing  many  men  and  learning  the 
serious  side  of  war,  for  it  is  doubly  serious  to  the 
Engineer. 

I  was  transferred  to  intelligence  work,  and  sent  to 
the  Champagne  where  I  was  wounded  in  the  left  leg 
by  a  machine  gun  bullet. 

When  I  had  made  a  full  recovery  I  was  sent  to  the 
officers'  school  at  Langres,  France,  for  a  month  and 
fifteen  days,  and  then  given  a  lieutenant's  commission, 
and  assigned  to  the  157th  French  Infantry  Division, 
as  an  Intelligence  Officer.  This  division  was  a  part  of 
the  army  of  General  Gouraud. 

Here  I  received  the  Croix  de  Guerre  with  palm,  for 
the  following  piece  of  work: 


178  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

1  was  detailed  to  find  out  what  troops  were  opposite 
us  at  Hill  354  in  the  Champagne  sector,  to  the  right  of 
St.  Menehould.  Seven  men  of  the  Alpine  Chasseurs 
were  assigned  me.  While  out,  we  encountered  three 
machine  guns  and  17  Huns.  Engaging  them  in  combat 
with  grenades,  automatic  rifles,  and  rifle  grenades  at 
short  range,  we  at  length  carried  the  position  under 
cover  of  our  own  grenade  barrage. 

Reaching  the  enemy  first  line  trenches,  we  learned 
we  had  the  2nd  infantry  division  of  the  German  Army 
before  us. 

Three  of  us  got  back,  by  slipping  from  shell  hole 
to  shell  hole.     The  men  with  me  were  also  decorated. 

After  this  I  was  again  very  active  in  intelligence 
work  on  the  front,  and  while  out  on  duty  was  wounded 
a  second  time,  this  time  in  the  hip,  by  shrapnel.  This 
brought  me  another  citation  that  gave  me  a  gold  star. 

After  a  little  more  than  a  month  in  the  hospital,  I 
was  back  with  the  French  Army  again.  They  had 
moved  to  the  Marne  along  about  August.  We  moved 
back  quickly,  however,  to  the  Champagne  front,  and 
were  there  ready  for  the  final  drive. 

I  was  sent  out  with  37  men  to  a  town  called  Han, 
where  in  1915,  the  French  had  lost  about  15,000  men. 

As  our  drive  was  to  start  the  28th,  I  had  a  couple 
of  days  for  intelligence  work. 

At  two  in  the  morning  of  the  27th,  we  hit  the 
enemy's  front  line  trench  wire  entanglement. 

As  the  detail  tried  to  work  its  way  through,  they 
set  some  bells  to  tinkling,  and  this  drew  the  fire  of  the 
enemy's  wire  machine  gun,  so  we  lost  fifteen  men  of 
the  detail  right  there. 

When  things  had  quieted  down  and  our  position  was 
unknown  to  the  Huns,  I  disposed  my  men  in  shell 
holes  near  the  enemy's  wire,  and,  alone,  entered  the 
front  line  trench  through  a  gap  in  his  wire,  made  by 
a  shell. 

I  came,  then,  upon  a  dugout  in  which  were  several 
men.  The  door  was  open  and  a  candle  burning.  There 
Avas  a  man  on  post.     He  was  taking  twenty-five  feet 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  179 

to  complete  his  tour  each  time.  I  counted  his  steps 
three  times  till  I  had  his  beat  by  heart,  and  then,  the 
third  time  when  he  came  opposite  me,  I  pulled  my 
automatic  and  shoved  it  into  the  sentry's  stomach.  He 
was  some  surprised. 

Taking  his  rifle  and  motioning  him  to  keep  quiet,  I 
drove  him  down  the  trench  and  through  the  wire 
toward  where  my  men  were  waiting. 

Just  as  he  was  passing  the  last  of  the  wire,  the  pris- 
oner let  out  a  yell.  I  killed  him  immediately,  taking 
his  coat  and  hat,  and  rejoining  my  men,  we  began  to 
work  back  slowly  toward  our  own  trenches.  The 
Huns  were  thoroughly  aroused,  throwing  up  flares 
and  raking  the  ground  with  machine  gun  fire,  but  we 
got  ahead. 

Six  more  of  the  detail  were  killed  on  the  way  back, 
but  the  rest  of  us  dropped  over  our  parapet,  and 
mighty  glad  we  were  to  be  back. 

Through  the  coat  and  hat  I  had  brought  back,  we 
learned  that  the  troops  opposed  to  us  were  Prussian 
Guards. 

At  5 :45  of  the  morning  of  the  28th,  the  French 
attack  was  launched  with  great  success.  On  our  first 
day,  we  cut  into  the  Boche  for  a  distance  of  six  kilo- 
meters, though  the  enemy  gave  us  gas  in  clouds  and 
had  the  front  covered  with  machine  gun  nests. 

Two  days  later,  I  was  taken  before  General  Gouraud 
and  decorated  again  for  my  work  on  the  27th. 

I  was  with  the  French  Army  of  Occupation  when 
we  went  to  Strassburg,  and  brought  liberty  to  the  lost 
province. 

On  January  25th,  I  was  ordered  home  and  very 
glad  I  am  to  be  back  in  America  again. 


180 ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

VI 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES   OF  THE  77TH,   38TH,  42XD,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

Private  Louis  Weinberg 

Born  in  New  York  City,  May  1,  1SS9.  With  military  police 
of  77th  Division. 

His  Own  Story 

It  is  all  too  fresh  and  terrible  yet,  for  me  to  care 
to  put  much  of  my  experiences  in  France  in  writing. 

If  there  is  any  one  outfit  that  sees  all  the  rough  edges 
of  war,  it  is  the  Military  Police. 

In  the  Vesle  River  fighting,  I  was  on  duty  in 
Bazoches.  That's  the  place  where  Al.  Kauffman 
grabbed  up  a  machine  gun  and  running  forward,  placed 
it  in  an  advantageous  position  from  which  to  shoot  up 
the  Germans. 

Some  time  after  Al.  had  his  gun  in  position  the 
boys  heard  him  coming  back  to  the  place  where  most 
of  them  were  fighting.  He  was  climbing  along  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  crying:  "For  God's  sake  give  me 
some  more  ammunition !" 

Fighting  was  going  on  right  in  the  town. 

You  know  what  that  means.  The  bloodiest  kind 
of  work  there  is.  Bayonets  and  butts  at  close  quarters, 
grenades,  all  the  devilish  things  for  killing  men  when 
they  have  tied  right  into  each  other.  A  fight  like  that 
doesn't  give  the  stretcher  bearers  and  the  hospitals 
any  work.     It  is  kill  or  be  killed. 

The  Germans,  after  their  fashion,  when  their  own 
men  were  fighting  in  a  town  with  us,  shelled  the  place, 
and  a  big  H.  E.  struck  the  building  where  Kauffman 
was,  killing  him. 

Our  casualities  at  that  place  were  sickening. 

We  had  about  4,000  gas  cases  right  there,  while 
man  after  man  went  raving  mad  in  that  inferno. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  fighting  there  reached 
a  state  where  we  could  bury  our  dead,  and  when  we 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  181 

did  several  of  the  men  in  our  burial  squad  were  killed 
by  the  explosion  of  bombs,  the  Germans  had  intro- 
duced into  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

After  that  we  made  the  German  prisoners  handle 
our  dead.  I  had  heard  stories  about  that,  but  did  not 
believe  it  till  I  saw  it  myself,  but  it's  true.  After  that 
I'll  believe  the  Huns  did  run  their  own  dead  through 
a  garbage  plant  to  get  the  oils  and  salts.  They'd  do 
anything. 

At  Fere  en  Tardenois,  among  the  dead  we  found 
women  dressed  in  German  uniforms  shackled  to  the 
machine  guns.  It  was  a  common  thing.  I  saw  it  many 
times.  And  chaining  the  men  to  the  guns  was  done 
right  along. 

If  a  woman  complained  to  her  neighbors  about  the 
death  of  her  people  in  the  war,  or  made  some  remark 
that  offended  the  German  authorities,  she  was  sent  to 
the  front  and  put  in  a  man's  uniform  and  chained  to  a 
gun,  placed  in  an  exposed  position. 

The  same  treatment  was  given  male  civilians  and 
soldiers  who  were  to  be  punished  for  some  offense. 
Many  Alsatian  soldiers,  forced  into  the  German  Army, 
died  that  way. 

The  Germans  always  had  other  guns  trained  on  these 
penal  guns,  and  the  poor  devils  chained  fast  never  had 
a  chance  for  their  lives. 

These  are  the  things  you  don't  hear  so  much  about 
any  more,  but  they  should  be  told  and  told  again. 

We  were  into  the  third  town  from  Sedan  right  on 
the  heels  of  the  retreating  foe.  There  I  found  a  knot 
of  town  people  with  a  young  French  woman  struggling 
in  their  arms.    In  the  road  was  a  small  child  dead. 

The  woman  was  quite  mad. 

She  was  one  of  the  victims  of  the  Hun,  and  had 
destroyed  with  her  own  hands,  the  moment  the  Ger- 
mans departed,  the  child  in  whose  veins  ran  the  hated 
blood. 

Those  cases  too  were  common. 

These  are  the  things  you  people  at  home  ought  to 
hear  about  the  war,  whether  vou  like  to  or  not. 


182         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

VII. 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

Private  Larry  Wolff 

Overseas  with  the  319th  Machine  Gun  Battalion,  Company 
A.    St.  Mihicl  and  Argonnc  Forest.     Wounded  and  gassed. 

His  Own  Story 

Within  half  an  hour  after  the  Sergeant's  whistle, 
I  was  ready  with  my  pack  on  my  back,  a  sandwich 
in  one  hand,  a  cup  of  black  unsweetened  coffee  in  the 
other.  Off  I  started  from  camp  on  a  five  mile  hike  to 
the  waiting  trains  that  were  to  take  us  to  a  ferry 
boat  that  brought  us  to  the  ship  "Corsican"  on  which 
we  sailed  for  the  other  side. 

They  gave  us  each  a  number  and  mine  was  No.  713, 
some  unlucky  number  it  was. 

They  put  me  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  ship  in 
a  stuffy  compartment  with  five  other  fellows.  There 
wasn't  enough  room  to  swing  a  cat  by  the  tail. 
Think  of  fellows  being  bunked  in  such  a  stuffy  hole, 
against  the  bojler  room  that  threw  off  enough  heat  to 
make  a  fellow  sweat  as  though  he  were  in  a  Turkish 
bath,  and  not  be  permitted  to  go  on  deck  until  the 
ship  reached  Sandy  Hook.  The  first  thing  I  did  after 
getting  permission  to  go  on  deck,  was  to  rush  up  and 
inhale  as  much  fresh  air  as  I  could.  It  gave  me  new 
life  with  which  to  battle  with  the  storms  our  ship  en- 
countered on  this  trip.  We  were  among  twenty  ships 
and  a  convoy,  and  were  on  the  submarine  infested 
waters  for  eighteen  days. 

We  arrived  at  Liverpool,  staying  there  two  nights. 
Then  we  were  sent  to  a  rest  camp  to  remain  two  nights. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 183 

It  gave  us  time  to  wash  up  and  put  away  a  real  chowie 
mess  in  jig  time. 

There  we  had  our  first  glimpse  of  the  Hun. 

One  was  working  on  a  coal  pile  and  he  gave  us  a 
sneering  laugh  that  made  our  blood  boil  and  put  fight 
into  our  eyes.  We  were  at  this  place  only  one  night, 
when  we  received  orders  to  leave  at  twelve  the  next 
day.  We  left  the  camp,  marched  until  we  came  to  the 
Liverpool  station,  and  entrained  for  a  dock  at  South- 
ampton where  we  boarded  a  boat  that  took  us  across 
the  Channel. 

When  we  marched  through  the  streets  in  France  the 
people  threw  kisses  at  us.  We  certainly  enjoyed  these 
manifestations,  but  the  moment  word  came  we  were 
to  get  some  chow,  you  should  have  seen  the  way  we 
braced  up.  Because  you  don't  know  what  a  fine  dish 
corn  willy  or  monkey  meat  with  a  few  hard  tack  of 
the  dog  biscuit  kind  thrown  in  make  for  a  fellow  with 
a  keen  appetite. 

I  got  so  I  could  eat  nails  and  railroad  spikes  with- 
out much  trouble,  and  I  didn't  have  to  take  any  lacto 
peptine  to  aid  my  digestion  either.  All  the  way  we 
had  been  meeting  new  troops  that  came  from  Lord 
knows  where,  and  with  the  assistance  of  one  of  my 
Buddies  we  were  able  to  attach  a  few  bottles  of 
cognac  which  we  drank  in  place  of  water. 

After  getting  acquainted  with  many  rats  and  cooties 
that  stayed  at  this  place,  we  had  to  remain  there  a 
month.  We  were  told  after  inspection  by  General 
Pershing  that  we  were  one  of  the  best  companies  over 
there,  and  were  expected  to  do  our  bit.  You  can 
imagine  how  we  swelled  up  when  the  General  praised 
our  showing,  and  we  never  forgot  those  kind  words. 

We  were  all  on  edge  because  we  received  orders  we 
were  going  to  the  trenches,  and  after  marching  fifteen 
miles  we  came  within  two  miles  of  the  lines.  Then 
we  marched  in  single  line  formation  and  knew  that 
we  were  headed  for  the  front  lines. 

The  reason  the  single  line  formation  was  maintained 
near  the  front  lines  was  because  if  a  shell  happened 


184         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

along,  Instead  of  killing  five  men,  it  would  only  kill 
two. 

As  wc  drew  nearer  the  lines  a  "Gi  can"  came  threat- 
eningly near  us.  The  explosion  of  this  shell  fairly 
lifted  us  off  our  feet.  We  continued  to  advance  until 
we  came  to  tfie  front  line  trench,  where  we  got  our 
first  glimpse  of  the  battlefield.  The  roads  were  strewn 
with  dead  and  wounded  and  the  sights  were  awful  for 
a  person  who  had  never  seen  this  before.  We  put  up 
our  machine  guns  at  some  place  whose  name  I  do  not 
remember,  and  then  we  got  orders  to  place  a  harassing 
fire  at  the  enemy's  front  line.  We  were  working  on 
shifts,  four  on,  eight  off.  It  sure  was  muddy  and 
rainy  all  the  time. 

One  day  they  picked  me  to  give  out  the  chow.  We 
had  two  cans  attached  to  a  long  pole  slung  from  the 
shoulders  of  a  couple  of  fellows.  We  walked  for  at 
least  an  hour,  through  barbed  wire  entanglements  and 
shell  holes,  with  bullets  and  shell  all  around  us.  It 
was  no  easy  task  for  anyone  without  being  a  little 
shaky  the  first  time. 

When  we  reached  the  kitchen,  we  got  some  stuff 
called  /'slum."  It  reminded  me  of  painters'  paste. 
When  it  got  to  my  stomach  it  danced  the  Salome. 

We  stayed  there  for  a  while  until  we  went  to  an- 
other sector  called  St.  Mihiel.  Here  we  dug  out  ma- 
chine gun  emplacements  right  near  the  statue  of  Joan 
of  Arc.  We  dug  these  emplacements  the  night  before 
the  big  barrage  started.  That  was  September  12th. 
We  dug  in  all  that  night.  It  was  raining  and  the  mud 
was  slimy  as  a  fish. 

At  midnight  the  following  day,  September  13th,  we 
were  posted  at  our  gun  positions,  waiting  for  our  or- 
ders to  fire.  In  an  hour,  we  spied  an  aeroplane  over- 
head dropping  red  flares,  which  started  the  fireworks 
going. 

The  big  guns  soon  sent  their  warning  to  Jerry's 
front  line.  From  one-fifteen  in  the  morning  till  six 
o'clock  the  following  night,  the  guns  fired  steadily. 
Our  aeroplanes  were  dropping  bombs  on  Jerry's  front 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  185 

line  trench.  Bullets  and  shell  slaughtered  the  Boches 
as  they  ran  from  their  rat  holes.  We  advanced  so 
fast  that  it  was  hard  to  keep  up  with  the  infantry. 
Town  after  town,  village  after  village  we  captured. 
Dead  and  wounded  lay  all  over  the  roads. 

In  one  town  we  took  a  warehouse  cf  the  Ger- 
mans ;  in  it  we  found  bread,  raw  cabbage,  and  beer. 
"I'll  tell  the  world"  we  sure  did  have  some  feast,  and 
believe  me,  Buddy,  we  needed  it. 

We  broke  the  wonderful  salient  of  the  Germans. 
Undoubtedly  this  was  one  of  the  telling  blows  of  the 
great  war. 

After  a  few  days'  rest,  we  went  to  the  Verdun  sec- 
tor. We  got  up  there  in  little  Ford  cars;  we  were 
motorized.  We  arrived  about  six  a.  m.  We  must 
have  shown  fire,  for  as  soon  as  we  got  off  the  machines, 
Jerry  began  sending  "Gi  cans,"  whizz  bangs,  etc.  This 
kept  up  at  least  two  hours. 

Right  here  I  had  a  little  experience,  and  I  can't 
see  how  I  escaped  being  killed.  For  protection  from 
the  bursting  shell,  I  ran  under  a  bridge.  Standing  in 
water  up  to  my  knees,  I  was  covered  with  mud,  cold, 
and  hungry.  Jerry  must  have  known  we  were  under 
that  bridge,  I  was  standing  in  among  a  few  fellows, 
when  a  shell  hit  a  Buddy  of  mine  and  he  fell  into  the 
stream.  Yet  I,  who  stood  right  beside  him,  escaped 
injury.  I  don't  understand  it,  but  those  are  the  mys- 
terious things  that  happen  in  war. 

From  the  Verdun  sector  we  worked  our  way  into  the 
Argonne  Wood. 

We  crawled  up  a  little  trench,  the  snipers  sending 
their  bullets  past  our  face  and  ears.  However,  we 
kept  right  on  going;  "carrying  on,"  we  call  it  Over 
There. 

This  trench  was  covered  with  German  dead.  The 
scenes  here  were  too  horrifying  for  me  to  describe. 
Even  the  sky  seemed  soaked  with  blood,  it  was  so  red 
from  the  bursting  of  the  heavy  shell. 

Our  objective  was  Hill  No.  170.    As  we  were  creep- 


186  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

ing  along  on  our  hands  and  knees,  I  got  a  little  touch 
of  gas,  mustard  gas  I  believe  it  was,  as  it  burned  me. 

Soon  after,  I  felt  a  stinging  pain  in  my  leg  and 
knew  that  I  was  hit. 

My  Buddies  carried  me  to  the  rear  for  treatment. 
I  was  put  on  a  hospital  train  and  sent  to  Base  Hos- 
pital No.  47  at  Boehm.  I  also  contracted  influenza 
and  pneumonia  and  I  sure  thought  I  was  going  West. 
However,  the  treatment  I  received  saved  me.  From 
October  17  to  December  8,  I  lay  there,  then  I  was 
sent  to  Hyers  in  southern  France  to  convalesce. 

Every  one  treated  me  wonderfully,  and  I  can  never 
express  how  deeply  I  appreciated  it.  I  sure  do  thank 
the  Red  Cross  and  I'll  always  remember  the  wonder- 
ful work  of  the  Salvation  Army  lassies. 

I  stayed  in  southern  France  a  month,  and  then  went 
to  Bordeaux  where  I  received  my  sailing  orders  on 
January  4th.  This  day  was  al,so  my  birthday,  and 
that  sure  was  a  wonderful  present  to  receive. 

Aboard  the  S.  S.  Wilhelmina,  we  docked  at  Ho- 
boken,  Sunday,  January  20,  at  noon.  The  Red  Cross 
and  Salvation  Army  gave  us  cake  and  hot  coffee. 

I  sure  was  happy  to  be  back  in  God's  country  again, 
after  going  through  such  experiences.  We  walked 
through  the  streets  to  the  cheering  of  the  crowds. 

At  Camp  Upton,  on  February  5th,  I  received  my 
honorable  discharge. 


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SERGEANT  MAX  WICKER 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  189 

VIII. 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

Sergeant  Max  Wicker 

Born  in  New  York  City.  Drafted  September  17,  1917.  Camp 
Upton.  Boxing  instructor.  Overseas  April,  1918,  zvith  307th 
Infantry.  Service  with  B.  E.  F.,  Flanders,  A.  E.  F.,  Alsace, 
Chateau-Thierry  Salient,  Vesle  River. 

His  Own  Story 

September  17th,  1917,  I  was  drafted  into  the  serv- 
ice, and  was  sent  to  Camp  Upton  where  I  stayed  six 
months.  I  acted  as  boxing  instructor,  and  therefore 
was  promoted  to  sergeant. 

I  was  one  of  the  twenty-five  men  sent  out  of  this 
camp  to  obtain  subscriptions  for  the  Second  Liberty 
Loan.  We  were  successful  enough  to  get  $1,250,000 
worth. 

On  April  16th,  1918,  we  left  on  the  Lapland  for 
overseas.  We  took  thirteen  days  to  get  across.  On 
the  ship  we  were  told  that  we  were  being  fed  rabbits, 
but  I  discovered  it  was  not  rabbits  we  were  eating,  but 
sea  gulls. 

One  night,  the  captain  and  I  approached  a  man  do- 
ing guard  duty  who  was  studying  the  sea  through  his 
glasses.     "What  are  you  looking  for?"  I  asked  him. 

"Submarines,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"How  do  you  expect  to  see  a  sub  on  such  a  foggy 
night  as  this  ?" 

"I  thought  maybe  it  would  have  lights  on,  sir,"  was 
his  reply. 

We  finally  docked  at  Liverpool,  the  boys  feeling 
homesick  already.  Then  we  went  to  Calais,  France. 
Crossing  the  English  Channel  was  one  of  the  worst 
things  we  experienced ;  it  was  worse  than  the  ocean. 

Then  we  started  for  rest  camp.  That  sounded  fine ; 
we  thought  we  were  in  for  a  good  night's  sleep.  But 
we  soon  learned  our  mistake.     We  were  billeted  in 


1 9< )         ECHOES  FROM  0  VER  THERE 

tents,  about  twenty-five  to  a  tent,  and  the  first  night 
we  had  a  glimpse  of  war.  Some  Hun  aeroplanes 
swooped  down  and  dropped  bombs  between  the  tents. 

"So  this  is  rest  camp !"  hollered  some  of  the  boys. 

"Rest  camp,"  answered  others,  "hell !" 

We  spent  three  restless  nights  there  and  were  mighty 
glad  to  get  away.  With  visions  of  a  comfortable  pull- 
man,  we  hiked  for  the  train. 

Suddenly,  about  twenty-five  of  us  found  ourselves 
stuck  in  a  box  car  with  a  lot  of  cows.  We  couldn't 
decide  which  was  most  uncomfortable,  the  cows  or  us. 

That  ride  lasted  four  days.  Some  of  the  boys  aged 
ten  years  in  those  four  days. 

When  we  were  dumped  out,  some  thought  it  would 
be  fun  to  take  one  of  the  cows,  but  most  of  us  ob- 
jected because  we  had  eaten  so  much  bully  beef  we 
never  wanted  to  see  a  cow  again. 

Without  washing  or  cleaning  up  a  bit,  we  started  on 
a  hike  to  a  Flanders  rest  camp.  After  covering  fifteen 
miles,  we  reached  the  camp  where  we  remained  a  few 
days. 

Then  we  hiked  for  the  Flanders  front.  On  the  way 
we  fell  out  for  about  ten  minutes.  We  were  ordered 
not  to  drink  from  our  canteens  as  water  was  very 
scarce.  We  were  told  that  any  man  that  touched 
water  out  of  his  canteen  would  be  court  martialed. 
Xot  long  after,  I  noticed  Private  Panafillio  drinking 
out  of  a  canteen.  As  he  was  sitting  right  beside  me,  I 
balled  him  out.  But  he  flatly  denied  that  he  was  dis- 
obeying orders,  and  kept  laughing.  Finally  I  discov- 
ered the  joke.  It  was  my  canteen  he  had  been  drinking 
out  of. 

After  we  hit  the  reserve  in  the  Flanders  front,  we 
were  trained  by  the  British  in  modern  warfare.  Here 
we  got  an  idea  of  what  civilization  had  come  to.  Every 
town  from  there  on  that  we  passed  had  been  bombed 
by  aeroplanes  and  cannon  since  1914. 

All  the  officers  had  to  go  to  the  Flanders  front  for 
observation  for  a  few  days.  Wrhile  there  I  saw  things 
I  can  never  forget. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  191 

A  little  Canadian  was  pumping  a  machine  gun  over 
the  German  lines,  he  was  always  cracking  jokes,  never 
serious.  Suddenly  a  whizz  bang  hit  the  trench,  bury- 
ing us  all.  When  we  scrambled  out  of  the  dirt  and 
debris,  we  found  the  little  Canadian  that  had  been 
laughing  a  minute  before  with  half  his  skull  torn  off. 
He  was  still  conscious. 

"Say,  Buddy,"  he  whispered  to  his  pal,  "do  you 
think  I'll  ever  see  my  mother  again?" 

"Sure  thing,"  his  pal  answered.  "You're  going 
home  on  a  furlough  now." 

Next  we  were  moved  to  the  American  sector  in 
Alsace-Lorraine.  When  we  finally  hit  the  front  lines, 
we  got  plenty  of  gas  which  killed  a  few  of  the  boys. 

While  on  a  patrol  with  a  lieutenant,  a  sergeant  and 
three  privates  about  three-thirty  one  morning,  the 
German  sentries  sighted  us.  All  of  a  sudden,  hell 
opened  up  all  around  us.     It  was  a  box  barrage. 

"My  God !"  cried  the  lieutenant.    "They've  got  us." 

To  add  to  all  this  excitement,  a  fellow  hollered, 
"Gas,"  and  we  had  to  put  on  our  gas  masks  and  run 
about  a  hundred  yards  to  our  trench.  Luckily,  the 
barrage  lifted  and  we  came  through  all  right,  except 
for  our  clothes  that  were  ripped  to  shreds. 

About  two-thirty  another  morning,  the  Germans 
came  over  and  raided  the  307th  Infantry  with  liquid 
fire.  One  of  my  pals  was  burned  to  death ;  two  other 
boys  who  witnessed  this  attack  are  maniacs  for  life. 
Now  that  it's  all  over,  I  marvel  not  so  much  that  I 
was  not  wounded  as  that  I  came  back  sane.  As  it  is, 
I  know  that  the  things  I  saw  over  there  will  haunt 
me  all  my  life. 

There  are  more  rumors  around  a  camp  than  in  a 
small  town.  We  heard  at  different  times  that  we  were 
going  to  Italy,  Honolulu,  and  Russia,  all  over  the 
world  in  fact.  Finally,  our  colonel  announced  that 
before  the  end  of  the  week  we  were  to  see  some  heavy 
action. 

The  following  morning,  there  were  over  a  thousand 
motor   cars,    driven   by    Chinamen,    waiting    for   us. 


192  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Jammed  into  these  cars,  we  rode  for  many  agonizing 
hours  before  we  hit  Belleau  Wood. 

All  the  fright  fulness  of  war  seemed  concentrated 
here.  Thousands  of  baskets  of  German  ammunition 
were  strung  through  the  woods,  left  behind  in  their 
retreat.  Everywhere  you  looked  you  saw  dead  bodies. 
It  was  a  common  sight  to  see  boys  buried  with  their 
feet  sticking  out  of  the  ground. 

When  we  got  our  tents  up  it  was  so  dark  I  couldn't 
see  my  hand  before  me.  I  went  into  my  tent  and  called 
to  the  Buddy  who  was  to  share  it  with  me.  He  didn't 
answer,  but  while  I  was  feeling  around  in  the  dark, 
I  suddenly  touched  a  human  arm.  Of  course  I  thought 
it  was  my  Buddy.  I  was  worried  because  he  didn't 
answer,  so  in  order  to  see  what  was  the  matter  with 
him,  I  did  something  forbidden.     I  lighted  a  match. 

There  between  two  trees  sat  a  Boche,  his  gun  point- 
ing straight  at  me.  For  a  second  I  was  absolutely 
paralyzed  with  terror.  It  looked  as  if  I  hadn't  a 
chance.  Then  all  at  once  I  saw  that  his  wide  open 
eyes  were  glazed,  and  knew  that  he  was  dead. 

However,  though  a  dead  Boche  is  a  good  Boche,  I 
didn't  quite  care  for  him  as  a  bedfellow.  So,  out  went 
the  match,  I  grabbed  my  stuff,  and  out  went  Max,  too. 
to  bunk  with  some  other  fellows  for  that  night. 

Next  morning  one  of  the  fellows  tried  to  get  the 
gun  out  of  the  German's  hand,  but  could  not  move  it. 
He  had  to  cut  the  whole  arm  off. 

From  Belleau  W^ood  we  went  to  a  town  near  the 
Vesle  River  and  there  the  fireworks  started.  Our  or- 
ders were  to  go  straight  ahead  regardless  of  the  cost. 

I  was  gassed  slightly  but  was  able  to  keep  on.  But 
in  the  next  barrage,  a  shell  burst  within  a  few  feet  of 
me  and  knocked  me  out  for  twenty- four  hours. 

I  was  taken  to  the  first  aid  station  at  Chateau- 
Thierry.  After  recuperating,  I  was  attached  to  the 
hospital  as  boxing  instructor  and  physical  director. 

Eventually,  the  doctors  decided  to  send  me  home  so 
I  sailed  on  the  Leviathan,  landing  in  the  blessed  old 
U.  S.  A.  on  February  11th. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 193 

IX. 
THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC 

Corporal  Alan  V.   Streat 
Of  New   York,   March  26,  1917.     Enlisted   in  7th   N.    Y. 
Trained  Wadsworth.    Overseas  May,  1917.    Service  in  Fland- 
ers and  Picardy.    Battle  of  Knoll  and  other  engagements. 

His  Own  Story 

I  enlisted  in  the  U.  S.  Army  on  March  26th,  1917, 
in  the  old  Seventh  Regiment.  For  eight  months  at 
Camp  Wadsworth  I  trained  for  overseas  under  Eng- 
lish, French  and  American  officers. 

On  May  10th  we  sailed  for  France  on  the  Antigone, 
an  old  German  freighter.  The  trip  across  was  not  ex- 
citing. Once,  we  had  a  submarine  scare,  which  was  a 
scare  and  nothing  else  for  the  sub  proved  to  be  a  keg. 
We  knocked  it  to  pieces  in  about  five  minutes. 

Finally  after  fourteen  days  we  sighted  Brest  where 
the  Antigone  lay  for  one  day,  and  then  we  landed, 
the  25th  of  May. 

We  immediately  went  to  a  rest  camp  about  five  miles 
out  of  Brest,  and  the  next  morning  hiked  back  to 
Brest  and  entrained  in  side-door  pullmans.  We  de- 
trained at  Noilles,  and  from  there  went  to  Morlay, 
where  we  took  up  intensive  training  under  British 
officers.  We  hiked  all  over  the  country  after  that,  and 
in  the  beginning  of  August,  landed  at  Steemvoorde, 
in  Flanders.  At  that  time,  I  was  attached  to  Battalion 
Headquarters,  Second  Battalion,  102nd  Regiment. 

One  day  another  fellow  and  myself  were  detailed 
to  carry  some  important  papers  from  Steemvoorde  to 
Abeele,  where  regimental  headquarters  were  located. 
We  were  both  on  horseback.  While  passing  through 
the  main  part  of  the  town,  two  shell  landed  some  200 


19  1         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

yards  away,  just  off  the  road.  We  decided  to  wait 
a  few  minutes  and  try  to  time  the  shell.  We  waited 
about  ten  minutes,  then  as  no  more  shell  came,  we 
again  mounted  and  started  at  a  brisk  trot.  Just  as 
we  were  passing  the  main  square,  two  more  shell 
landed  directly  in  front  of  us,  demolishing  two  houses, 
and  throwing  my  companion  off  his  horse.  I  stopped 
immediately  to  see  if  he  had  been  hit,  and  found  him 
O.  K.  We  remounted  and  galloped  on  to  headquar- 
ters. 

Another  funny  coincidence  happened,  while  we  were 
galloping  down  the  road.  We  passed  a  fellow,  lying 
in  the  middle  of  the  road  and  over  his  head  an  English 
Kitchen  Dixie  (a  kettle  to  boil  things  in)  which  he 
was  evidently  using  for  protection.  I  yelled  at  him, 
as  we  passed,  telling  him  to  follow  us  back  to  camp. 
He  arrived  soon  after  we  did,  scared,  but  none  the 
worse  for  his  experience. 

On  August  10th,  we  went  into  the  front  lines,  in 
front  of  Mt.  Kernel,  in  the  Scherpenberg  sector,  where 
we  were  put  to  stem  Prince  Ruprecht's  army  of  Huns. 
They  had  been  massed  there  preparatory  to  a  drive 
to  the  sea  to  get  Calais. 

The  third  night  in  the  lines,  proved  to  be  the  most 
exciting  we  had  in  that  sector.  About  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  both  our  side  and  the  enemy's  started 
strafing  each  other.  It  was  there  that  we  had  our 
first  death,  as  our  artillery  fire  fell  short.  We  were, 
therefore,  getting  it  from  both  sides.  I  was  standing 
in  a  corner  of  the  trench,  when  a  small  shell,  prob- 
ably a  whizz-bang,  exploded  about  ten  feet  away  from 
me,  a  piece  of  it  piercing  the  back  of  the  head  of  a 
fellow,  another  piece  piercing  the  man  next  to  me  in 
the  hip. 

Probably  the  fact  that  I  was  standing  partly  covered 
by  the  corner  of  the  trench,  saved  me  from  getting  a 
piece  of  the  shell. 

After  a  ten-day  stay  in  that  sector,  we  went  back 
into  the  reserve,  another  regiment  of  the  Division  came 
up  to  take  our  place. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 195 

After  being  out  three  days,  I  was  sent  to  a  hospital 
with  internal  trouble.  I  remained  at  the  hospital  for 
about  three  weeks,  and  then  rejoined  my  regiment  at 
a  town  called  Beauquesne. 

On  September  26th,  we  entrained  for  Guillacourt, 
where  we  arrived  the  next  day.  That  night  we  hiked 
up  in  front  of  the  Hindenburg  line,  and  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  29th,  we  went  "over  the  top,"  engaging  in, 
perhaps  one  of  the  biggest  battles  of  the  war,  known 
as  the  "Battle  of  the  Knoll."  This  was  located  in  a 
sector  between  Cambrai  and  St.  Quentin,  where  a 
canal  ran  through  a  tunnel.  This  canal  had  been 
drained  and  made  into  dugouts,  each  of  which  had 
about  five  or  six  entrances,  causing  a  lot  of  trouble 
for  us  in  the  matter  of  capturing  Germans,  because, 
as  we  would  go  into  one  entrance,  they  would  retreat  at 
the  other  side.  However,  we  gained  our  objectives, 
and  the  next  morning  the  famous  Australians  com- 
pleted our  job,  so  for  the  time  being,  we  went  back  to 
our  reserve. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  rear,  I  was  again  sent  up 
to  the  front,  with  a  detail  of  four  men,  on  a  burial 
party. 

This  party  was  under  charge  of  Father  Kelly,  the 
Division  chaplain,  who  deserves  all  the  credit  possible, 
for  his  wonderful  work  throughout  the  war. 

We  buried  approximately  one  thousand  Ameri- 
can dead,  the  result  of  the  "Battle  of  the  Knoll," 
but  there  were  three  times  as  many  dead  Germans. 
We  did  not  bury  the  Germans,  but  just  covered  them 
up.  The  Americans  were  buried  in  the  best  way  pos- 
sible. We  wrapped  them  in  burlap,  and  put  -them 
four  feet  deep  down  in  the  ground,  and  placed  a 
wooden  cross  over  the  grave.  Where  possible,  small 
cemeteries  were  kept. 

I  rejoined  my  outfit  on  October  23rd  at  St.  Souplet, 
where  they  had  been  relieved  by  a  British  division. 
We  then  went  back  for  our  much  needed  rest. 

Then  we  proceeded  to  Blangy.  We  were  located  in 
that  town  when  the  armistice  was  signed.     We  were 


196  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

due  to  go  into  action  on  November  15th,  but  as  the 
armistice  had  been  signed,  we  entrained  for  Tuffe, 
where  we  arrived  the  day  before  Thanksgiving. 

On  January  1st,  I  was  detailed  to  Division  Head- 
quarters and  was  attached  to  the  Division  show.  The 
name  of  this  show  was,  "Let's  Beat  It." 

Well,  to  make  it  short,  we  reached  the  "States"  on 
March  4th,  on  board  the  Leviathan  and  I  was  honor- 
ably discharged  on  April  14th. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  197 

X. 

THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC. 

Sergeant  Sidney  Ettinger 

Bom  in  New  York,  August  7,  1888,  and  lives  at  29  West 
117th  Street,  New  York.  National  Army,  307th  Infantry, 
77th  Division.    Served  with  the  Division  in  France. 

His  Own  Story 

Now  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  much  about  myself. 
I  did  not  do  anything  remarkable  and  I  think  my  ex- 
periences were  about  those  of  any  other  young  fel- 
low in  the  Division. 

But  I  saw  many  things  that  thrilled  me  then  and  do 
yet,  many  things  that  made  me  sad  then  and  still  fill 
my  heart  with  pain,  for  the  often  gallant  and  useless 
sacrifice  of  life,  for  of  course  there  were  mistakes 
made  now  and  again,  times  when  the  Hun  outguessed 
us,  though  never  a  time  when  he  outfought  us,  I'll 
tell  the  world  that. 

There  was  the  time  for  instance  when  Captain  Blan- 
don  Barrett  was  killed  in  the  Vesle  sector.  He  went 
over  the  top  in  a  daylight  raid  with  sixty  men  and 
none  of  them  came  back  to  us.  The  captain  and  some 
forty  of  the  men  were  killed,  while  the  rest  were 
taken  prisoners.  We  had  nothing  to  show  for  that 
day's  work  except  a  bloody  memory  and  a  score  to 
settle  with  the  Hun.  We  settled  it,  too,  I'll  say  we 
did.  Settled  it  in  his  own  blood  at  the  rate  of  more 
than  a  life  for  a  life,  but  it  didn't  give  our  comrades 
back,  and  apparently  the  Hun  has  learned  nothing. 

We  saw  some  stiff  fighting  on  the  Verdun  front  and 
as  we  were  carrying  on,  under  heavy  shell  fire,  I  was 
struck  in  the  arm,  leg  and  shoulder  by  shrapnel  and 
gun  shot. 


198         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

The  same  shell  that  got  me  got  my  buddie  and  they 
I  ticked  him  up  with  a  sponge,  poor  devil. 

Patrol  work  was  the  lively  stuff.  We'd  work  right 
into  the  German  lines,  particularly  after  the  fighting 
was  in  the  open,  then  we  used  to  filter  in  through  his 
front  and  hang  around  till  we'd  manage  to  kill  a  sen- 
tinel, strip  him  of  his  clothes  and  stuff,  when  we  would 
work  back  to  our  lines,  if  we  could. 

That  is  the  best  way  to  get  information  about  what 
is  going  on  in  front  of  you. 

1  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  boys  of  the  Seventy- 
seventh  go  into  action,  as  I  saw  them  go,  smiling  and 
chaffing  each  other,  rolling  their  own  and  lighting 
them,  never  showing  any  fear  and  yet  knowing  all 
the  time  what  confronted  them. 

They  were  fine,  too,  at  the  Meuse.  We  had  to  come 
down  the  steep  slope  of  a  small  knoll  to  get  to  the 
water  where  the  engineers  were  working  like  mad  un- 
der frightful  fire  to  throw  a  bridge  across. 

Up  to  their  necks  in  water  they  were  righting  with 
the  current  and  heavy,  awkward  boats  while  machine 
guns,  rifles  and  shrapnel  were  beating  the  water  to 
foam  about  them. 

They  got  the  things  across,  too,  and  out  we  went 
on  them  in  the  teeth  of  that  fire,  officers  ahead. 

But  the  Boche  practice  was  too  good,  they  cut  the 
bridge  in  two  and  drove  the  men  back  from  the  water. 

It  is  no  joke  being  spilled  into  a  river  with  a  sixty- 
pound  pack  on  your  back  and  220  rounds  stowed  away 
on  your  person,  to  say  nothing  of  a  miscellaneous  col- 
lection of  souvenirs  for  your  girl  and  friends  back  on 
Broadway. 

But  I  said  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  the  boys 
and  I  am.  There  was  a  fellow  by  the  name  of  "Fly" 
Gilbert  who  belonged  to  the  Headquarters  Company  of 
the  Regiment.  He  is  Benny  Leonard's  brother,  I 
think.    At  any  rate  some  relation. 

The  Huns  raided  us  one  day  and  after  their  fashion 
used  liquid  fire  and  all  they  had.  One  of  our  fellows 
was  badly  burned  and  fell  out  between  the  lines.    This 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 199 

chap  Gilbert  went  after  him  and  brought  him  back 
to  us,  though  he  was  badly  wounded  in  the  act. 

He  was  cited  for  that  and  he  earned  it. 

There  was  another  boss  chap  with  us  and  that  was 
Eddie  Grant.  Grant  was  some  soldier  and  a  mighty 
good  captain.  We  certainly  loved  him.  There  was 
much  real  sorrow  when  he  "went  west." 


BROOKLYN  BOY  CITED 

American  Expeditionary  Forces,  July  24th,  1918. 

From  Assistant  Division  Adjutant  Forty-second  Divi- 
sion to  Sergeant  Wm.  Maloney,  Company  E., 
165th  Infantry. 

I  am  directed  by  the  Division  Commander  to  inform 
you  that  your  conduct  on  the  occasion  of  July  18th, 
1918,  in  subsector  Taupiniere,  Champagne,  when  with 
three  of  your  men  you  did  voluntarily  take  up  a  posi- 
tion, where  you  knew  that  the  enemy  was  present  in 
force  and  you  were  in  danger  of  being  surrounded 
and  you  covered  the  withdrawal  of  your  platoon  to 
their  position,  during  which  time  you  saw  about  sixty 
of  the  enemy  advancing  toward  your  platoon's  posi- 
tion, and  immediately  carried  back  this  information 
to  your  platoon  commander,  has  been  brought  to  his 
personal  attention,  and  he  considers  your  performance 
of  duty  on  this  occasion  worthy  of  his  highest  com- 
mendation. 

He  regards  your  action  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  gal- 
lant and  an  example  to  your  comrades  in  arms,  and 
characteristic  of  that  splendid  standard  upon  which  the 
traditions  of  our  military  establishment  are  founded. 

(Signed)  James  C.  Thomas, 
Captain  and  Adjutant  General. 

Tom  Maloney  lived  in  Brooklyn,  brother  of  Patrol- 
man Michael  E.  Maloney,  and  employed  by  the  Bush 
Terminal  Company. — Editor. 


200         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 


XI. 

THE  XATIOXAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 
EIGHTY-SECOXD  DIVISION 

Sergeant  Victor  Vigorito 

Better  known  as  "Johnny  Victor."  Born  and  lives  in  Brook- 
lyn, and  well  known  in  sporting  circles  as  a  boxer.  Trained 
at  Gordon,  and  assigned  1st  Battalion,  325th  Infantry,  82nd 
X.  A.  Division  in  which  ivcre  about  5,000  Brooklyn  boys.  Toul 
sector,  St.  Mihiel,  Norroy,  St.  Juvin,  Argonne  Forest.  Di- 
visional citation  for  "great  bravery  and  devotion,"  October  15, 
1918.     Wounded. 

His  Own  Story 

Like  the  rest  of  the  boys,  I  went  in  as  a  private,  but 
what  I  had  learned  in  the  ring  soon  brought  me  pro- 
motion, so  at  Camp  Gordon  I  was  made  first  a  cor- 
poral, then  a  sergeant,  and  became  bayonet  and  boxing 
instructor. 

Presently,  I  was  assigned  to  the  First  Battalion  of 
the  325th  Infantry,  a  part  of  the  Eighty-second  Divi- 
sion, commanded  by  Major  General  Duncan.  A  good 
soldier  I'd  say  he  was. 

The  Eighty-second  was  practically  a  Brooklyn  Divi- 
sion for  it  had  on  its  rolls  the  names  of  fully  5,000 
Brooklyn  boys,  and  let  me  tell  you  they  made  good 
over  there.  In  addition  to  the  5,000  from  Brooklyn, 
the  rest  of  Greater  New  York  contributed  about  3,500 
more  to  us.    The  balance  of  the  Division  was  southern. 

Of  military  life,  practically  none  of  us  knew  any- 
thing, although  most  of  the  southern  boys  knew  how 
to  use  a  gun,  while  the  city  boys  could  use  their 
"dukes."    A  pretty  good  combination,  I'd  say. 

We  followed  the  Seventy-seventh  Division  to 
France,  crossing  even  before  the  Twenty-seventh.  We 
were  proud  of  our  work  that  had  enabled  us  to  be 
sent  to  France  so  quickly,  and  prouder  still  when  we 
became  the  sixth  American  Division  that  was  trusted 
to  go  it  "on  its  own"  organization. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  201 

In  April  we  crossed  the  "pond,"  and  we  landed  in 
England  where  the  325th  Infantry,  my  regiment,  had 
the  honor  of  parading  and  being  reviewed  by  King 
George,  who  struck  us  as  a  jolly  little  sport. 

We  wasted  no  time  in  England,  but  hurried  right  on 
to  France  to  take  up  the  job  we  had  come  for.  On  ar- 
riving in  France,  we  turned  in  our  American  rifles  and 
were  issued  English  rifles,  gas  masks,  and  some  other 
odds  and  ends  of  equipment,  necessary  for  troops  who 
were  to  be  a  part  of  the  British  Expeditionary  Force. 

Having  familiarized  ourselves  with  the  new  guns 
and  masks,  we  moved  up  to  the  Somme  front  near  Ab- 
beville, for  our  first  smell  of  German  powder. 

We  were  soon  in  the  fight,  not  as  a  division;  but 
companies  and  battalions  went  into  the  line  with  Brit- 
ish troops  who  were  badly  shaken  after  the  great  Ger- 
man drive  in  March.  The  fighting  here  was  very 
fierce,  and  tried  the  spirit  of  the  new  troops  thor- 
oughly, for  the  Germans  were  swollen  with  the  pride 
of  victory  and  sacrificed  men  regardless.  The  first 
severe  casualties  came  to  us  when  some  of  the  326 
were  set  repairing  broken  wire  entanglements  under  a 
heavy  German  shell  and  machine  gun  fire.  The  men 
did  the  job,  though  they  were  butchered  while  doing 
it.  Our  hearts  were  filled  with  bitterness,  for  we  had 
seen  our  own  brave  dead,  and  had  no  real  chance  to 
settle  scores  with  the  Hun. 

In  that  experience  is  the  key  to  the  small  number  of 
prisoners  reported  taken  by  the  Division.  Officers  and 
men,  less  than  a  thousand  prisoners  were  taken  by  the 
Division.  We  went  into  battle  after  this  experience 
on  the  British  front,  with  the  maxim,  "the  only  good 
German,  is  a  dead  one." 

The  Hun  had  made  the  big  mistake  of  bleeding  us 
too  much  in  our  first  fight.  He  had  thought,  perhaps, 
to  discourage  us  and  break  our  nerve,  instead  he  had 
us  hot  for  revenge. 

June  15th,  we  moved  to  the  Toul  sector,  and  only 
eleven  days  later  we  were  sent  in  to  relieve  the  Twen- 
ty-sixth  Division,  the  Yankees,  who  had   seen  hard 


202  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

fighting  in  the  Chateau-Thierry  sector  and  were  in 
sore  need  of  rest  and  replacements. 

War  now  came  to  us  with  a  vengeance.  We  had  a 
long  stretch  of  front  to  hold  by  ourselves.  The  enemy 
was  active  and  aggressive,  and  we  were  there  to  pun- 
ish him. 

Patrol  work  gave  us  a  great  opportunity. 

The  southern  boys  certainly  snowed  up  like  stars 
in  this  work,  and  by  sending  city  men  with  them,  the 
whole  gang  soon  learned  how  to  creep  out  in  the  dark 
and  stalk  a  German  patrol  or  listening  post.  It  got  so 
finally,  that  our  men  would  slip  out  on  their  own  hook, 
stalk  a  German,  kill  him  with  a  trench  knife,  and 
bring  his  helmet  or  cap  for  a  trophy.  Oh,  boy !  It 
was  some  sport. 

Trench  raids  were  our  meat,  too.  You  know  how 
they  go.  The  artillery  sneak  up  a  bunch  of  guns  and 
get  them  all  registered  on  a  few  hundred  yards  of 
German  trench.  The  men  who  are  to  make  the  raid 
are  given  plenty  of  opportunity  to  look  over  the 
ground  so  they'll  know  it  in  the  dark.  Zero  hour 
comes  along. 

Whoop !  A  box  barrage  comes  down  on  Mr.  Hun, 
cuts  him  of!  from  retreat,  and  prevents  reinforcements 
from  getting  up. 

The  raiding  party  nurses  its  bombs  and  grenades  in 
eager  hands,  makes  sure  the  knives  are  loose  and  ready 
to  hand,  and  then  springs  over  the  top ;  stumbles  along 
toward  the  German  line,  rips  its  clothing  to  pieces  on 
the  wire,  cut  by  the  shelling,  loses  a  few  men  in  the 
crossing, — to  whet  its  appetite  for  the  slaughter, — 
takes  a  deep  breath,  and  springs  into  the  enemy's  first 
line,  stinking  of  fresh  spilled  blood,  greasy  with  the 
flesh  spewed  all  over  by  the  shell. 

A  German  officer  comes  running  along.  An  auto- 
matic sticks  out  a  tongue  of  pinkish  yellow  fire  and 
acrid  gas.     The  Hun  crumples. 

Some  one  is  crying:  "Kamerad !  Kamerad  !"  The 
fellow  does  not  show  himself,  and  we  are  just  natur- 
ally suspicious.    They  give  him  a  grenade  and  he  stops 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  203 

his  bleating.  Meanwhile  parties  of  Huns  have  been 
cornered  in  the  dugouts.  The  officers  look  the  dug- 
outs over  and  figure  out  how  many  men  will  be  in 
them  and  then : 

"Four." 

"Six."  Or  some  such  number  is  spoken  quietly.  A 
sergeant  steps  forward  and  counts  out  the  required 
number  of  pills  (H.  E.  grenades).  The  men  fall  back 
the  least  bit,  and  the  grenades  are  tossed  into  the  dug- 
outs. 

The  party  runs  right  over  one  fellow  wrho  is  hiding. 

An  officer  speaks  up  quickly. 

"Don't  give  it  to  him !  Take  him  back,  a  couple  of 
you.     We'll  see  what  he  knows." 

A  quick  search  follows  for  papers  or  anything  that 
will  give  us  valuable  information. 

Then  back  we  go. 

Going  back  it  is  lively,  for  the  Huns  have  opened 
up  on  the  ground  we  have  to  cross,  and  in  the  trenches 
to  the  right  and  left  of  the  raided  sector,  the  men  are 
alert  and  throwing  up  flares. 

We  duck,  dodge,  creep,  crawl,  and  finally  get  back. 

A  few  of  the  boys  have  got  it  on  the  way  back,  but 
we  have  brought  them  along. 

The  Big  Fellow  up  at  G.  H.  Q.  looks  over  the  re- 
port and  a  smile  lights  up  his  grim  old  face. 

"Pretty  good  stuff  in  the  Eighty-second !  Send 
them  along  with  the  First  and  Second !  They  can 
travel  in  fast  company." 

On  the  9th  of  August,  we  are  on  the  move,  just  in 
time  to  miss  a  big  gas  attack. 

We  go  to  Pont-a-Musson  and  relieve, — just  think 
of  it — the  Eighty-second  relieves  the  Second  Division ! 

We  spit  on  our  hands  and  squared  our  shoulders 
then,  I'll  tell  the  country. 

The  Second  had  put  the  fear  of  the  Americans  into 
the  hearts  of  the  Hun,  and  it  was  comparatively  quiet. 

Then  on  the  12th,  old  John  Joseph  Pershing  just 
says  to  the  Eighty-second :  "Go  and  get  'em.  That's 
what  vou  came  for !" 


204  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

I  don't  mean  to  say,  he  said  that  to  ns  in  person, 
but  he  said  it  all  right  in  his  orders, — only  in  military 
language,  you  know,  all  dressed  up  for  the  histories. 

They  told  us,  our  officers  did,  before  we  went  in, 
that  this  was  the  first  time  the  Americans  had  gone  it 
all  alone.  They  told  us  we  came  over  to  win  the  war, 
and  this  was  our  chance.  They  told  us,  not  to  let  the 
Huns  get  away  from  us,  if  we  had  to  run  our  damned 
legs  off. 

In  we  went ;  and  did  what  we  were  told  to  do ;  and 
then  some.  For  five  days  and  nights,  we  never 
stopped.  Of  course,  the  same  men  were  not  fighting 
all  the  time,  but  the  Division  was,  and  the  relief  any 
bunch  got  was  only  a  few  hours,  then  they  would  be 
at  it  again. 

I'd  like  to  describe  that  for  you,  but  I  can't  seem 
to  do  it,  yet,  it  is  so  confused,  as  though  you  had  been 
in  a  glorified  riot  for  five  days  and  nights.  You 
couldn't  describe  such  a  thing. 

We  took  Norroy,  and  I'd  say  that  was  some  fight. 
German  aeroplanes  flying  around  overhead  firing  at 
us  with  machine  guns ;  the  Huns  in  the  town  blazing 
away. 

Well,  we  took  the  town.  But  we  lost  a  bunch  of 
guys  there.  Now  and  then,  we  took  a  few  prisoners, 
but  we  had  no  time  for  any  la-de-da  business  with 
the  Huns.  Mostly,  they  got  the  bayonet  or  grenade. 
YVe  strewed  the  ground  with  them  plentv, — I'd  sav  we 
did. 

Having  done  so  well  at  St.  Mihiel,  G.  H.  Q.  decided 
to  give  us  a  rest,  so  they  sent  us  to  the  Argonne  For- 
est. The  rest  consisted  of  relieving  the  Twenty-eighth 
Division,  establishing  a  new  position  by  taking  a  cross- 
ing of  the  Aisne  near  Appremont,  and  then  pushing 
along  with  our  battle  line  astride  of  the  Aisne. 

There  was  some  great  killing  pulled  off  there,  both 
by  the  Germans  and  ourselves.  We  sent  several  Ger- 
man divisions  to  the  rear  writh  the  very  life  wmaled  out 
of  them,  while  the  numbers  of  our  men  were  so  re- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  205 

duced  that  two  regiments  must  be  united  to  make  even 
one  small  one. 

Each  day  our  orders  were  the  same. 

"Push  steadily  on,  regardless  of  the  cost.  Hold 
what  you  take,  and  keep  up  with  the  enemy." 

The  orders  were  obeyed,  though  our  men  fell  by 
hundreds.  The  Division  was  being  annihilated,  but 
those  of  us  who  were  left  never  thought  of  quitting; 
we  were  killing  too  many  Huns  each  day  to  think  much 
about  what  was  happening  to  us. 

It  seemed  we  had  been  battling  for  years,  when  we 
reached  a  place  called  St.  Juvin,  which  according  to 
"Intelligence,"  the  Boche  was  supposed  to  give  up 
without  an  argument.  Instead,  he  had  dug  in  like  a 
woodchuck,  got  the  guns  of  half  an  army  to  support 
him,  fresh  troops  to  maul  us,  and  allowed  he'd  have 
it  out  with  the  82nd,  once  and  for  all. 

We  had  to  have  the  engineers  bridge  a  river,  we 
then  crossed  and  formed  under  fire,  then  attacked  our 
objective.  The  engineers  got  the  bridge  down,  though 
it  almost  floated  in  their  own  blood.  We  got  two  com- 
panies and  part  of  a  third  across,  then  the  Huns  gave 
us  Hell.  We  lost  about  280  officers  and  men  in  a  few 
minutes.  It  was  the  worst  piece  of  wholesale  murder 
I  saw  in  the  whole  war. 

And  no  ground  gained. 

They  figured  out  another  way  to  try  it  again,  and 
while  still  holding  the  first  crossing,  we  moved  down 
and  got  across  at  a  ford,  from  where  we  fought  our 
way  through  machine  gun  nests  into  a  position  where 
we  could  outflank  the  nests  holding  up  the  first 
crossing. 

We  had  to  take  prisoners  at  that  time,  for  they  came 
so  thick  and  fast  we  did  not  have  time  to  kill  them, 
and  we  needed  all  the  information  we  could  get,  for  we 
knew  no  more  about  the  country  than  we  did  about 
Central  Africa.      I  was  wounded  on  the  15th. 

Just  what  the  boys  went  through  in  the  final  cam- 
paign can  best  be  seen  by  the  following  laconic  excerpts 


206         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

from  Colonel  Whit  man's  story  of  the  325th  Infantry, 
82nd  Division : 

82nd  Div.  U.  S. 
Field  orders  10  Oct.,  1918. 

No.  23  23  Hours. 

Map:Buzancy  1/20000. 

"1.  a)  The  enemy  has  been  driven  north  of  the  line 
Sommerance-Saint-Juvin-Grand-Pre.  Saint-Juvin  is 
reported  evacuated. 

"b)  The  First  Corps  attacks  at  7  hours,  11th  Octo- 
ber, 1918,  on  its  present  front. 

"2.     The  82nd   Division  attacks  at  7  hours,   11th 
October.     Direction  of  attack  due  North, 
"a)   Boundaries  of  attack: 

Right,  East  :  Sommerance  (exclusive)  Sivry- 

les-Buzancy   (exclusive)  ; 
Left,  West   :  Marcq  (inclusive),  Saint-Juvin 
(exclusive),     Verpel     (exclusive),     Ther- 
morgues    (exclusive),    Harricourt    (inclu- 
sive). 
"b)   Objectives: 

Intermediate  objectives  :  Imecourt-Champig- 
nuellcs-Grand-Pre.     Halt  of  one  half  hour 
will  be  made  on  this  line  for  the  purpose 
of  re-organization  and  movement  forward 
of  Artillery; 
First  objectives    :  Sivry-les-Buzancy   (inclu- 
sive), Verpel  (inclusive); 
Divisions  advance  to  the  first  objective  in- 
dependently and   will  be  prepared  to  ad- 
vance to  the  Corps  objective  at  13  hours; 
Corps  objective    :  Sivry-les-Buzancy  (exclu- 
sive), Thcrmorgues  (inclusive).    On  reach- 
ing this  line  exploitation   will  be   carried 
out  to  the  front  and  contact  kept  with  the 
enemy. 
"3.    a)   The  328th  Infantry  is  temporarily  attached 
to  the  163rd  Infantry  Brigade  and  the  325th  Infantry 
is  temporarily  attached  to  the  164th  Infantry  Brigade. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 207 

"b)  Battalions  that  are  to  lead  the  attack  in  each 
Brigade  will  be  moved  north  of  the  Aire  river  before 
daylight.     Crossing  will  be  covered  by  strong  patrols. 

"c)  163rd  Brigade  will  attack  between  the  West 
boundary  of  the  Division  and  Meridian  98.5  and  the 
164th  Brigade  between  the  same  Meridian  and  the  East 
boundary  of  the  Division. 

"d)  Battalions  will  be  formed  up  for  attack  by 
5  hours,  on  the  North  bank  of  the  Aire  river  and  on 
the  line  Sommeranc e-po'mt  98.4-84.5. 

"e)  Tanks. — Five  tanks  will  support  the  attack. 
The  tanks  will  assemble,  during  the  night,  on  the 
main  road,  2  kilometers  north  of  Fleville,  and  will 
move  forward  with  the  Infantry,  deploying  across  the 
front  of  the  Division  as  the  Infantry  moves  forward. 
Should  Infantry  discover  machine  gun  nests,  officers 
will  place  a  helmet  on  a  rifle  and  with  it  indicate  to 
the  tank  operator  the  direction  of  the  machine  gun. 

"f)  Artillery. — To  keep  harassing  and  interdic- 
tion fire  in  front  of  the  advancing  Infantry,  and  to  fire 
on  all  towns  and  important  cross  roads  and  special 
targets.  Artillery  liaison  officers  with  Infantry  Com- 
manders will  keep  Artillery  Commanders  constantly 
informed  of  the  Infantry  positions.  One  regiment  of 
75  m/m  Field  Artillery  to  be  assigned  by  Artillery 
Brigade  Commander  will  support  the  attack  of  each 
Infantry  Brigade.  One  forward  gun  will  accompany 
each  front  line  Battalion.  Artillery  observers  will 
move  forward  with  the  advance  Infantry  line  for  the 
purpose  of  directing  fire  of  supporting  batteries.  All 
Artillery  will  open  fire  at  "H"  hour  and  will  pass 
under  the  control  of  the  Artillery  Brigade  Commander 
as  soon  as  the  action  stabilizes.  Full  advantages  will 
be  taken  of  the  open  terrain  for  advancing  by  echelon 
of  the  supporting  Artillery. 

"4.  Liaison  :  a)  Strong  Combat  liaison  will  be 
maintained  by  Brigade  Commanders  with  the  5th 
Corps  on  the  right  and  the  77th  Division  on  the  left. 


208  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Liaison   will   be   established   and   maintained   between 
Brigades. 

"b)   Telephonic  communication  will  be  maintained 
down  to  advance  Battalions. 

"c)   Axis  of  Liaison    :  FlcriUc-Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georges-Imecourt-Busancy. 

"5.    P.  C.  82nd  Div.,  without  change; 
P.  C.  163rd  and  164th  Brigades  to  advance  with  attack  ; 
P.  C.  157th  F.  A.  Brigade  Montblainville. 

"G.  B.  Duncan, 
"Major  General  U.  S.  A. 
"Commanding. 

"Note.— One  battalion  of  each  the  327th  and  328th 
Infantry  will  be  held  by  respective  Brigade  Com- 
manders as  Division  Reserve.  They  will  move  for- 
ward with  the  attack  under  the  direction  of  Brigade 
Commanders." 

Observe  that  the  orders  say  (a)  "The  enemy  has 
been  driven  north  of  the  line  Sommcrancc-Saint-Juvin- 
Grandpre"  As  a  matter  of  fact  we  know  now  that 
he  was  south  of  that  line  for  we  ran  into  him  before 
the  Sommerance-Saint-Jiivin  road  was  reached. 

b)  "Saint-Jnvin  is  reported  to  be  evacuated."  Far 
from  being  evacuated  it  was  a  hot  bed  of  German 
machine  guns  and  was  not  taken  until  Oct.  14th.  We 
received  the  hottest  kind  of  fire  from  it  all  during 
Oct.  11-12-13  and  part  of  the  14th. 

c)  "325th  Infantry  Eastern  boundary  Meridian, 
99.3.  Western  boundary  Corps  Western  boundary." 
This  was  obviously  a  typographical  error,  as  the  Corps 
western  boundary  was  many  kilometers  away.  The 
dividing  line  between  Brigades  was  known  to  be  98.5 
so  it  was  evident  that  our  sector  was  about  one  kilo- 
meter wide  between  98.5  and  99.3.  This  left  500 
meters  from  our  left  to  the  Aire  river  that  should  have 
been  filled  by  the  163rd  Brigade. 

For  some  reason  that  Brigade  did  not  cross  the  river 
and  there  were  no  troops  in  that  gap  until  our  own 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 209 

Machine    Gun    Company    and    Company    "F"    were 
thrown  in  to  fill  it. 

d)  "Jumping  Off  place  will  be  Sommerance-Saint- 
Juvin  road."  We  pushed  ahead  fast  to  get  to  this  road 
on  time  expecting  it  to  be  in  the  hands  of  friendly 
troops.  Unfortunately  the  Boche  beat  us  to  it.  He 
was  entrenched  along  it. 

e)  "Tanks  will  support  the  attack."  None  appeared. 

f)  "To  each  Regimental  Commander  six  75,'  are 
assigned,  etc."     None  reported. 

We  were  confronted  with  the  problem  of  getting  to 
the  jump  off  at  5  a.  m.  The  distance  was  about  4 
kilometers  by  road.  No  fords  had  been  found  by  our 
patrols;  the  leading  battalions  were  widely  dispersed 
over  a  front  of  two  kilometers ;  the  night  was  dark ; 
no  reconnaissance  had  been  allowed  for;  time  was 
short. 

It  was  decided  not  to  waste  precious  hours  hunting 
for  fords  over  an  unknown  river  on  a  black  night. 
There  was  a  foot  bridge  of  some  kind  under  construc- 
tion at  Fleville.  That  was  selected  as  the  point  of 
crossing.  The  3rd  Battalion  which  was  at  the  Regi- 
mental P.  C.  was  at  once  started.  Rush  orders  were 
sent  to  the  2nd  Battalion  to  assemble  and  follow.  The 
1st  Battalion  was  in  Brigade  Reserve  to  follow  at  3 
kilometers.  The  Regimental  Machine  Gun  Company 
accompanied  the  leading  Battalion.  The  men  worked 
their  way  through  the  dark  forest  and  forded  the  river 
in  single  file,  using  the  foot  bridge  as  a  guide  only. 
Daylight  found  us  still  a  kilometer  and  half  from  our 
position  and  it  was  evident  that  the  Sommerance  road 
could  not  be  reached  by  5  o'clock.  By  pushing  ahead 
fast,  however,  it  was  hoped  to  make  it  by  6  a.  m.  and 
to  jump  off  at  7. 

It  was  intended  to  place  the  3rd  Battalion  on  the 
jump  off;  the  2nd  battalion  in  support  and  the  1st  in 
reserve,  thus  making  3  echelons.  The  column  was 
urged  to  make  haste  and  its  head  was  approaching  the 
jumping  off  place  by  6  o'clock,  when  it  was  fired  upon 
from  its  right  and  from  direction  of  its  line  of  march — 


210         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

several  nun  fell.  Co.  "M"  was  in  the  lead  followed 
by  Co.  "1."  and  Co.  "L."  Co.  "K,"  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, had  been  detained  in  its  original  position. 

As  fire  of  snipers  and  Machine  Guns  now  became 
hot,  the  men  were  thrown  into  the  ditch  on  East  side 
of  the  road.  The  Regimental  and  Battalion  Com- 
mander worked  forward  to  the  Sommerance  road  to 
reconnoitre.  A  survey  of  the  situation  showed  no 
friendly  troops  in  sight.  In  front  on  a  ridge  and  to 
the  right  on  high  ground,  there  were  many  snipers  and 
machine  guns.  Artillery  now  opened  on  the  road  in 
which  the  Regiment  lay.  It  was  now  6:45.  To  get 
into  position  for  the  Corps  advance  at  7  hours  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  deploy  to  the  right  front,  inas- 
much as  the  head  of  the  column  lay  near  the  Meridian 
98.5  and  our  sector  extended  one  kilometer  to  the  East 
to  99.3.  No  deployment  could  be  made  until  the 
Boche  was  dislodged  from  our  right  flank.  Rush 
orders  were  sent  to  the  two  rear  companies  "I"  and 
"L"  to  break  off  to  their  right  and  send  a  skirmish 
line  with  its  left  near  the  main  highway  to  sweep  the 
ground  of  the  enemy.  This  was  successfully  done. 
As  the  line  passed  the  jump  off  road,  Co.  "M"  joined 
and  at  7 :20  the  Regiment  moved  forward, — 20  minutes 
late.  It  was  assumed  that  the  Corps  attack  had  started 
on  time  at  7  hours;  so  we  pushed  on  to  ridge  85.5. 
This  ridge  was  heavily  protected  by  enemy  wire  and 
had  a  sunken  road  along  its  top,  that  ran  due  West 
into  Saint-Juvin.  No  troops  were  on  our  left.  Saint- 
Juvin  was  full  of  Germans  who  raked  our  left  flank. 
Our  37  m/m  and  Stokes  could  not  keep  up.  No  tanks 
appeared.  No  75  m/m  guns  reported.  No  friendly 
barrage  proceeded  us. 

One  platoon  of  M.  G.  Co.  was  placed  East  of  the 
main  road  to  support  advance  of  Co.  "I."  One  platoon 
covered  advance  of  Co.  "M."  One  platoon  used  in- 
direct fire  over  heads  of  our  advancing  troops.  They 
moved  forward  with  the  assault  battalions  and  lost 
heavily. 

Liaison  was  established  along  85.5  with  the  327th 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 211 

Infantry,  but  at  11  hours  the  C.  O.  of  that  Regiment 
notified  our  Regimental  Commander  that  he  was  with- 
drawing about  one  kilometer.  Meanwhile  our  2nd  Bat- 
talion which  was  following  in  support  advanced  toward 
Sommerance  with  Co.  "E"  in  front  followed  by  Co. 
"G."  Co.  "F"  was  thrown  in  to  fill  the  gap  between 
us  and  the  163rd  Brigade.  Co.  "H"  was  detained  in 
Fleville  by  the  Brigade  Commander  for  police  work. 
The  Battalion  Commander  sent  word  that  the  327th 
was  falling  back  through  his  line.  This  was  reported 
to  the  Brigade  Commander  who  directed  me  to  hold 
the  ridge  at  all  costs  and  added  that  the  327th  would 
be  ordered  forward  again.  The  3rd  Battalion  was 
found  to  be  left  in  a  salient  with  both  flanks  pounded 
by  Machine  Gun  fire.  Its  losses  were  very  heavy. 
The  situation  was  serious.  Call  was  made  for  the  Re- 
serve Battalion  to  come  up.  Co.s  "B"  and  "C"  arrived 
at  11 :30  and  were  placed  below  the  crest  to  resist  any 
threatened  counter  attack.  Co.'s  "A"  and  "D"  were 
sent  by  the  Brigade  Commander  to  reinforce  the  327th. 
The  Colonel  of  that  Regiment  dismissed  them,  saying 
he  was  withdrawing.  They  then  came  over  to  the 
325th  Headquarters  and  were  then  thrown  in  on  the 
ridge. 

Four  enemy  counter  attacks  were  made  during  the 
day  but  none  of  them  were  in  sufficient  force  to  drive 
us  back.  Prompt  response  from  our  artillery  was 
made  to  our  call  for  a  barrage.  Our  own  artillery  fire 
fell  short  in  the  attempt  to  break  up  these  counter 
attacks.  Our  men,  therefore,  withdrew  until  the  fire 
ceased  when  they  advanced  again  to  their  positions. 
This  occured  twice. 

The  hours  of  the  Boche  counter  attacks  are  shown 
by  record  of  following  messages: 

"11:  45  to  C  O.  3rd  Bn. 

"Have  requested  fire  from  our  own  artillery  on  ridge 
85.5  be  raised  immediately.  When  our  barrage  lifts 
be  prepared  to  take  the  ridge.  It  must  not  fall  into  the 
enemy's  hands. 

Whitman." 


212  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

"1:45  to  C.  O.  3rd  Bn. 

"Barrage  because  of  counter  attack  has  been  called 
for  on  ridge  85.5.  Do  not  withdraw  from  ridge  except 
to  prevent  barrage  from  falling  on  you.  The  enemy 
must  not  be  allowed  to  hold  the  ridge. 

Whitman." 

"2 :  00  P.  M.  to  C.  O.  3rd  Bn. 

"At  2:  30  our  artillery  fire  will  stop.  After  that  the 
ridge  must  be  reoccupied.  The  troops  will  advance  no 
farther  than  that.  They  must  dig  in  for  the  night. 
These  orders  are  peremptory. 

Whitman." 

"17:  10  C.  O.  3rd  Bn. 

"No  troops  are  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  ridge 
without  orders  from  me.  The  ridge  will  be  held  to 
the  last.    All  company  commanders  have  been  notified. 

Whitman." 

Night  found  us  as  follows:  The  1st  and  3rd  Bat- 
talions rather  badly  mixed,  held  the  ridge  85.5,  about 
one  kilometer  front.  The  2nd  Battalion  was  outpost- 
ing  the  right  of  the  164th  Brigade  line  near  Somtner- 
ance.  Our  patrol  from  this  battalion  found  a  gap  of 
over  one  kilometer  between  the  82nd  and  42nd  Di- 
visions. The  latter  was  well  to  our  right  rear.  No 
connection  could  be  made  writh  the  163rd  Brigade,  on 
our  left,  until  after  dark,  when  one  battalion  of  the 
326th  crossed  the  river  and  filled  the  gap. 

During  the  day  the  following  officers  were  casualties  : 

Killed 

Capt.  Chas.  A.  Fowler. 
Capt.  Parley  B.  Christensen. 
Capt.  Louis  L.  Battey. 
Capt.  Lamar  V.  McLeod. 
1st  Lieut.  Farley  W.  Moody. 

Wounded 
Major  Thomas  L.  Pierce. 
Capt.  F.  M.  Williams. 
1st  Lieut.  R.  H.  Rives. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  213 

1st  Lieut.  Julian  F.  Livingstone. 
1st  Lieut.  James  A.  MacFarland. 
1st  Lieut.  Raymond  R.  Goehring. 
2nd  Lieut.  John  O'Brien. 
2nd  Lieut.  William  J.  Ehmer. 
2nd  Lieut.  John  I.  Guice. 
2nd  Lieut.  Oliver  M.  Perry. 
2nd  Lieut.  Henry  M.  Edwards. 
2nd  Lieut.  Arthur  H.  Bormann. 
2nd  Lieut.  Frank  H.  Taylor. 

No  doubt  could  remain  in  the  mind  of  the  most 
skeptical  of  the  fighting  qualities  of  the  regiment.  The 
men  showed  the  greatest  bravery  in  face  of  galling 
machine  gun  fire.  The  officers  were  totally  regardless 
of  their  personal  safety  and  led  the  men  with  utmost 
heroism. 

The  Regimental  advanced  dressing  station  was  estab- 
lished where  the  first  casualties  occurred.  There  was  no 
time  to  seek  a  safer  place.  Over  200  casualties  were 
evacuated  this  day  under  direction  of  Major  O.  O. 
Feaster  who  with  his  assistants  worked  20  hours  under 
fire. 

About  150  prisoners  were  taken,  20  machine  guns 
were  captured.  During  the  night  rations  and  water 
were  run  up  by  Capt.  M.  H.  Patton,  Operations  Officer. 
In  regard  to  the  surprise  fire  from  region  of  Saint- 
Juvin  and  from  our  right,  it  was  recalled  that  the 
Division  Field  Order,  No.  23,  stated:  "The  enemy 
has  been  driven  north  of  line  Sommerance,  Saint- 
Juvin,  Grand-Pre"  and  "Saint-Juvin  is  reported  to  be 
evacuated."  No  resistance  was  therefore  contemplated 
south  of  that  line. 

.  Oct.  12th.  After  a  miserable  and  cold  night  at- 
tended with  much  artillery  and  gas,  dawn  found  the 
command  well  dug  in  on  ridge  85.5.  No  further  attack 
was  ordered  by  the  Corps.  The  enemy  made  no  dem- 
onstration against  us.  Advantage  of  the  lull  was  taken 
to  reorganize  into  3  echelons  as  follows : 
Front  line,  1st  Battalion,  ridge  85.5; 


214  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Support  line,  3rd  Battalion,  Sommcrance  road; 

Reserve  line,  2nd  Battalion,  Brigade  Reserve. 

Co.  "K"  had  been  recalled  from  its  former  mission 
and  rejoined  its  Battalion. 

At  16:20  hours  word  was  received  that  the  42nd 
Division  which  had  relieved  the  1st  had  at  last  reached 
Sommcrance.  This  released  our  2nd  Battalion  which 
was  then  placed  in  Reserve  in  rear  of  the  Sommerance 
road. 

In  this  connection  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  Corps 
Summary  of  Intelligence  Oct.  11th,  gave  the  enemy 
front  line  as  1.500  meters  North  of  Sommerance.  We 
found  him  on  the  Sommerance  road  well  established, 
with  snipers  still  further  South  of  the  road. 

The  Supply  Company  was  ordered  to  run  the 
kitchens  up  to  Fleville  and  prepare  hot  food.  Capt. 
J.  B.  Connally  was  put  in  charge  of  this  work  and 
thereafter  kept  the  Command  well  supplied. 

The  327th  was  now  established  on  our  right  flank 
and  the  326th  on  our  left.  German  planes  were  very 
active  on  this  day  observing  our  lines. 

A  reconnaissance  of  the  positions  showed  that  in 
front  of  us  there  was  a  succession  of  ridges,  between 
which  small  ravines  ran  west  into  the  Champignnelles 
valley  toward  the  Aire  river.  Each  ridge  was  combed 
by  German  machine  gun  fire  and  the  reverse  slopes 
warmed  up  by  his  artillery.  The  men  could  not  put 
their  heads  up  without  drawing  a  whirlwind  of  fire. 
It  was  plainly  a  case  of  calling  for  a  heavy  rolling 
barrage  before  an  advance  could  be  made. 

One  platoon  of  the  M.  G.  Company,  remained  in  the 
ravine  near  the  cross  roads  and  covered  the  troops  on 
ridge  85.5.  One  platoon  was  pushed  to  the  top  of  the 
ridge  and  supported  the  1st  Battalion. 

Oct.  13th.  No  Corps  attack.  Our  lines  were  ar- 
ranged in  combat  groups.  Ammunition  and  rations 
and  water  were  brought  up.  Enemy  planes  were 
active.  Our  M.  G.  Company  remained  on  ridge  85.5 
and  supported  the  1st  Battalion  in  its  position  there. 

The  Stokes  and  One  Pounders  were  now  up  and 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 215 

in  position  on  the  ridge.  Except  for  moderate  artillery 
fire  from  the  enemy,  nothing  occurred  until.  16  hours 
at  which  time  the  Boche  made  an  attack  on  our  right 
and  on  the  left  of  the  327th  Infantry.  He  opened 
with  very  heavy  artillery  fire.  This  barrage  rolled 
over  the  2nd  Battalion  and  covered  the  men  with  mud 
but  by  some  miracle  no  one  was  killed.  Our  artillery 
in  response  to  call,  laid  down  an  effective  counter 
barrage  which  must  have  broken  up  the  enemy  as  his 
infantry  did  not  reach  the  crest.  Our  men  reported 
that  Germans  could  be  seen  throwing  down  their  rifles 
and  running  back.  The  325th  Infantry  reverted  to  the 
163rd  Brigade.     We  remained  on  ridge  85.5. 

During  the  day,  the  following  officer  was  a  casualty : 
Wounded:  Major  Thomas  L.  Pierce 

Oct.  14th.  Our  lines  remained  unchanged.  Capt. 
Castle  succeeded  to  command  of  1st  Battalion.  Capt. 
Melton  succeeded  to  Command  of  3rd  Battalion.  Dur- 
ing the  night  Oct.  13/14  orders  came  for  an  advance 
of  the  1st  Army  at  8:30  hours.  Saint-Jiivin  had  not 
been  taken.  This  task  was  assigned  to  the  77th  Div. 
The  1st  Battalion,  326th  Inf.,  on  our  left  had  not  yet 
crossed  the  river,  south  of  Saint- Juvin.  It  was  ordered 
to  do  as  soon  as  relieved  by  the  77th  Division.  The 
77th  did  not  pass  326th  at  Marcq  until  10  a.  m.  Oct. 
14th.     The  328th  was  now  on  our  right. 

It  appeared  from  the  map  that  we  were  already 
slightly  in  front  of  the  1st  Corps  objective  and  conse- 
quently could  not  go  over  until  10  hours  which  was 
the  time  given  to  the  units  to  leave  that  objective.  Our 
1st  Battalion  was  in  front,  supported  by  the  Stokes 
Mortars  and  37  m/m.  Our  M.  G.  Company  sent  6 
guns  to  leading  battalion  and  4  to  the  support.  The 
3rd  Battalion  was  in  support  at  1.200  meters.  The 
2nd  Battalion  was  held  in  Divison  Reserve.  Our 
artillery  laid  down  a  good  barrage.  The  assault  bat- 
talion followed  it  closely  and  gained  lJ/£  kilometers, 
reaching  the  road  Saint- Juvin-Saint-Gcorges  and  the 
crest  immediately  North  thereof.     Here  it  lost  liaison 


216  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

with  the  328th  on  account  of  our  regiment  being 
further  advanced.  The  support  battalion  moved  on 
time  and  the  reserve  battalion  (2nd)  advanced  through 
enemy  artillery  fire  in  line  of  combat  groups  as  if  on 
drill.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  Brigade  order  of  the 
164th  Brigade  said:  "So  far  as  known  of  plans  of  at- 
tack, the  164th  Brigade  will  stand  fast  pending  arrival 
abreast  of  it  of  the  42nd  Division  on  its  right."  Not- 
withstanding this,  the  163rd  Brigade  was  ordered  to 
plunge  forward.  Again  the  325th  found  itself  in  a 
salient  with  no  one  on  either  flank.  The  position  of 
the  leading  battalion  of  the  326th  was  given  by  its 
Major  who  was  at  98.0-85.9  as  being  on  road  to  our 
left.  The  story  of  this  morning's  operations  is  shown 
by  following  messages : 

"10:30.  1st  Battalion  started  over  the  top  as  per 
schedule.  No  information  received  from  front  line 
at  this  time  but  rear  waves  of  supporting  battalion  can 
be  seen  from  this  position.  About  40  prisoners  have 
passed  through  our  hands. 

Castle." 

"10:  59.  Reports  show  line  advancing  as  per  sched- 
ule. Prisoners  are  seen  coming  over  the  hill  in  large 
groups.  Support  battalion  is  now  passing  my  P.  C. 
I  will  move  forward  at  once  with  my  personnel  except 
adjutant  and  establish  new  P.  C.  Everything  looks 
roseate. 

Castle." 

"12:03.  Have  established  new  P.  C.  at  98.6-85.8 
in  ravine.  Front  line  is  being  held  up.  Meeting  stiff 
resistance  from  ridge  north  of  Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georgcs  road.  3rd  Battalion  is  away  behind  and 
should  be  pushed  forward  to  our  first  objective  and 
make  preparation  to  resist  counter  attack. 

Castle." 

At  this  juncture  instruction  was  sent  to  the  support 
battalion  as  follows  : 

"12:45  C.  O.  3rd  Battalion.  Report  positions  of 
your  companies.     Castle  is  meeting  resistance   from 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  217 

ridge  North  of  Saint-JuvinSaint-G eorges  road.  Send 
forward  to  see  if  he  needs  support  and  put  one  com- 
pany in  if  necessary. 

Whitman/'' 

He  replied : 

"C.  O.  325th  Infantry,  13:20.  Co.  "L"  extends 
right  of  leading  Battalion  of  326th  which  is  halted  on 
S aint- J lii'in-Saint-G eorges  road.  Co.  "L"  is  on  the 
road  from  98.1-98.4.  Co.  "K"  from  98.4-99  on  paral- 
lel 86.2.  Co.  "M"  is  300  yards  behind  "L's"  right. 
Co.  "I"  is  200  yards  behind  "K's"  right.  He  pushed 
one  platoon  Co.  "L"  out  150  yards  to  cover  the  1st 
Battalion  left.  The  leading  Battalion  of  326th  Inf., 
say  they  are  ordered  to  hold  this  road.  They  are  dig- 
ging in  on  it.  Our  Regiment  cannot  go  on  without 
putting  left  flank  in  air. 

Pierce/' 

"14  hours,  To  C.  O.  3rd  Bn.  Disregard  distance  of 
1.200  meters  from  1st  Battalion.  Take  up  position  on 
ridge  in  rear  of  Castle.  Dig  in  and  hold  to  the  last  if 
attacked.  Get  in  touch  with  328th  Inf.,  on  your  right 
at  once. 

Whitman/'' 

Following  came  from  the  leading  battalion  of  326th 
showing  it  to  be  slightly  behind  our  front  line : 

"From  C.  O.  3rd  Bn.  326th  Inf.,  To  C.  O.  325th  Inf., 
16:00. 

"Occupy  road  to  your  left  and  am  under  heavy 
M.  G.  fire  from  Saint-Juvin,  flank  wholly  unprotected. 
Will  let  you  know  of  any  change. 

Watkins." 

From  personal  observation  of  the  lines,  Major  Haw- 
kins sent  the  following: 

"1.  Our  1st  Battalion  has  passed  beyond  observa- 
tion over  ridge  through  parallel  86.8. 

"2.  Our  3rd  Battalion  has  2  companies  on  line  of 
road  from  about  98.3-86.3  to  about  98.9-86.6,  and  2 
companies  in  support  on  reverse  slope  about  400 
meters  south  east. 


218  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

"3.  The  326th  Infantry  front  line  battalion  has 
prolonged  Major  Pierce's  line  on  the  road  leaving  left 
of  our  1st  Battalion  unprotected. 

"4.  This  Battalion  will  move  East  of  Saint-Jitvin 
as  directed  after  reconnaissance. 

Hawkins/' 

"14:30.  To  C.  O.  1st  Bn.  Good  work.  Hold  what 
you  have.  The  326th  has  been  ordered  to  push  for- 
ward to  cover  your  left,  and  the  328th  to  cover  your 
right.  Do  not  go  too  far  ahead  of  your  flanks.  Pierce 
will  support  you.  Give  me  exact  position  of  your 
lines.     Do  you  need  ammunition  and  if  so  at  what 

P  *    '  Whitman." 

"15:45.  To  C.  O.  325th.  No  change  in  dispositions 
since  I  wrote  except  that  Company  "B"  320th  M.  G. 
Battalion  is  placing  guns  in  new  support.  Support 
Battalion  328th  is  on  my  immediate  right.  Every- 
thing standing  still.  I  surmise  waits  on  Saint-Juvin 
although  "A"  and  "D"  both  wanted  artillery  on  final 
objective  awhile  ago.  Boche  plane  flying  straight 
back  and  forth  along  our  line,  I  think  marking  it  for 
fire.     None  of  our  planes  in  sight. 

Pierce/' 

"15:50.  To  C.  O.  1st  Bn.  The  326th  has  been  or- 
dered to  push  forward  to  protect  your  left.  Artillery 
has  been  called  for  500  yards  North  of  your  position. 
Is  328th  as  far  advanced  as  you  on  your  right.  Am 
sending  ammunition  to  your  P.  C.  Hold  what  you 
have  until  your  flanks  are  covered.     Fine  work. 

Whitman/' 

Our  Machine  Gun  Company  followed  1st  Battalion 

in  its  advance  to  the  Saint-Jiivin-Saint-G corgcs  road 

and  took  position  there  firing  all  during  the  day. 

The  day  ended  with  following  messages: 

"C.  O.  3rd  Battalion  requests  me  to  inform  you  that 

friendly  artillerv  is  holding  1st  Battalion  up  at  98.6- 

86.5.  „ 

Hawkins. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  219 

"15:07.  1.  The  1st  Battalion  is  still  held  up  in 
same  place  as  mentioned  in  message  of  1  :55  this  date. 
"D"  Company  reports  short  of  both  kinds  ammuni- 
tion. Suggest  details  from  Reserve  Battalion  be  sent 
in  sufficient  numbers  to  carry  7.000  rounds  each  kind 
rifle  and  chauchat  to  each  Company.  Enemy  planes 
have  been  driven  of!  by  our  planes  but  not  until  they 
had  done  serious  damage. 

"2.  "D"  Company  reports  heavy  losses.  "B"  Com- 
pany is  now  in  their  front  line.  Request  C.  O.  3rd 
Battalion  be  instructed  to  place  2  companies  in  sup- 
port of  my  front  line  on  the  Saint-Juvin-Saint-Gcorges 
road  at  once.  I  have  instructed  my  companies  to  dig 
in  for  the  night.  Request  artillery  fire  heavy  barrage 
for  10  minutes  at  intervals  of  50  minutes  and  haras- 
sing fire  between  times  during  entire  night. 

"3.  326th  Infantry  stopped  on  Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georges  road  and  say  they  have  instructions  to  go  no 
further.  Our  flanks  are  held  up  and  exposed  Our 
front  line  extends  98.2-86.5  to  99.2-86.9. 

Castle/'' 

Night  fall  found  us  well  north  of  Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georges  road  and  dug  in  utilizing  shell  holes  for  the 
combat  groups.  Men  were  tired  and  wet  and  cold. 
Casualties  very  heavy. 

Two  Stokes  Mortars  and  2  Pounders  were  placed 
near  the  Saint-Juvin-Saint-Gcorges  road  and  were 
used  against  the  Ravine  Aux-Pierres  and  woods  north 
thereof.  Stokes  fired  300  rounds.  Pounders  fired  850 
rounds. 

Rations  and  water  were  brought  up  at  night  but  it 
was  a  difficult  matter  to  get  them  distributed  to  the 
men.  Details  were  sent  to  the  cross  roads  for  food 
but  it  was  a  slow  process  under  shell  fire.  Many  men 
had  lost  their  raincoats  and  overcoats.  A  cold  per- 
sistent rain  reduced  their  spirits — the  shell  holes  were 
deep  in  mud  and  water.  It  was  a  time  that  called  for 
the  best  stuff  in  every  officer  and  man. 

Our    positions    had    undoubtedly    been    thoroughly 


220         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

studied  by  enemy  planes  during  the  day.  Our  front 
battalion  was  conspicuous  on  the  ridge  North  of  the 
main  road ;  its  flanks  were  unsupported.  The  position 
was  an  exposed  one,  facing  a  very  strong  position. of 
the  Boche. 

During  the  day  the  following  Officers  were  casual- 
ties: 

Killed. 

1st  Lieut.  William  P.  Spratt. 
1st  Lieut.  Norman  A.  Garrett. 
2nd  Lieut.  George  W.  Huston. 

Wounded. 

Major  Thomas  L.  Pierce. 
1st  Lieut.  J.  H.  Thompson. 
2nd  Lieut.  Everett  Shepherd. 

Oct.  15th.  Daybreak  came  with  a  misty  rain  and 
orders  to  attack  with  the  First  Army  line  at  7:30 
hours.  The  information  given  stated  "The  Kremhilde 
Stellung  has  been  breached  by  the  82nd  Division." 
The  325th  Inf.,  being  as  well  advanced  as  any  other 
unit  in  the  Division,  must  be  given  its  full  share  of 
credit  in  the  breaking  of  this  famous  line. 

The  barrage  was  scheduled  to  start  at  7 :25  at  a 
point  300  meters  in  front  of  the  jumping  off  place,  and 
to  be  held  there  for  5  minutes ;  after  this  it  was  to 
advance  for  1.000  meters  and  then  cease. 

This  is  interesting  to  remember  in  view  of  what 
developed  later. 

It  almost  seemed  as  if  the  enemy  had  seen  our  or- 
ders. 

Our  formation  was  the  same  as  the  day  before, 
i.  e.  1st  Battalion  in  assaulting  line;  the  3rd  in  support 
at  500  meters.  The  2nd  Battalion  was  designated  to 
be  Division  Reserve  and  to  remain  near  cross  roads 
98.1-85.0.  Our  M.  G.  Co.  was  relieved  by  Co.  "C" 
320th  M.  G.  Bn.  and  was  sent  to  join  Division  Re- 
serve. Our  Stokes  and  Pounders  remained  in  place. 
The  unexpected  happened;  the  Boche  attacked  first, 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 221 

before  "H"  hour.  The  testimony  from  men  of  the 
leading  battalion  is  to  the  effect  that  their  outpost  line 
was  in  scattered  shell  holes  on  the  crest  overlooking 
the  Ravine  Aux  Pierres. 

At  7:00  the  Boche  laid  a  barrage  of  artillery  and 
then  of  machine  guns  and  followed  the  latter  closely 
with  a  line  of  Infantry.  The  attack  appeared  to  be 
stronger  against  the  328th  on  our  right;  but  close  in 
front  of  "D"  and  "B"  Companies  the  Boche  placed  8 
machine  guns.  Our  outposts  were  held  in  their  holes 
by  the  intensity  of  the  German  fire.  The  enemy  ad- 
vance was  not  stopped  by  our  own  barrage  which 
was  due  to  commence  in  about  15  minutes.  2nd  Lieut. 
T.  W.  Walker,  of  Co.  "D,"  who  was  in  an  advanced 
shell  hole  and  was  captured,  gives  his  impression  as 
follows : 

"About  7  o'clock  Co.  "D"  was  on  the  right  of  "B." 
I  was  in  a  shell  hole  with  a  sergeant.  The  company 
line  was  in  rear  of  us.  Machine  gun  fire  kept  us 
hugging  the  ground.  Suddenly  the  sergeant  jumped 
up  and  called  out  "Good  God,  Lieutenant,  look  what's 
coming."  Germans  appeared  on  my  right  and  left, 
about  40  all  told  near  me.  One  held  a  pistol  on  me 
and  ordered  me  to  surrender.  They  had  one  machine 
gun  placed  almost  on  my  shell  hole  and  were  firing  it 
past  me.  The  Germans  motioned  to  me  to  step  over 
it,  which  I  did.  I  was  compelled  to  assist  a  wounded 
German  down  the  slope  to  the  Ravine.  On  my  right 
I  could  see  many  more  Germans  and  a  crew  of  Amer- 
icans being  compelled  to  pull  a  gun  on  wheels  down 
toward  the  Ravine.  Our  barrage  had  not  started. 
When  it  did  open  the  Germans  had  withdrawn  and 
thereafter  kept  moving  away  from  it  and  did  not  suf- 
fer from  it.  They  made  me  cairy  a  stretcher  about 
six  kilometers  until  about  3  p.  m.  I  counted  about  45 
Americans  in  my  immediate  party.  We  were  con- 
ducted to  Montmedy  and  then  to  Carlsruhe,  then  to 
Villigon  and  were  finally  returned  after  the  Armistice 
via  Switzerland." 

The  line  of  Co.'s  "B"  and  '"D"  retired  under  this 


222  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

attack  to  the  Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges  road.  The 
telephone  of  1st  Battalion  was  working  and  at 
7:15  information  was  received  from  Capt.  Castle, 
Commanding,  which  was  at  once  transmitted  to  Com- 
manding General,  163rd  Brigade: 

"15th  Oct.,  7:20.  First  Battalion  reports  328th 
Inf.  fell  back  during  night  without  notice.  The  Bat- 
talion is  being  attacked  now  on  our  right  flank  which 
was  exposed.     Castle  is  being  pushed  back. 

Whitman." 

He  replied :  "8 :29.  Do  not  push  your  people  too  far 
ahead  of  troops  on  your  right. 

Austin-  1." 

The  Support  Battalion  was  thrown  in  to  stiffen  the 
line  and  one  company  of  the  Division  Reserve  was 
ordered  to  reinforce  Castle's  right.  Before  this  last 
company  started  the  line  was  restored  and  this  order 
revoked.  Meanwhile  the  Support  Battalion  was  com- 
mitted to  the  action.  Prompt  action  by  Capt.  Taylor 
with  "A"  and  "C"  Companies  on  Castle's  right  broke 
up  the  Boche  line  and  they  retired  as  quickly  as  they 
had  advanced.  In  15  minutes  they  had  gone,  leaving 
7  machine  guns  and  9  prisoners  in  our  hands. 

"H"  hour  had  now  passed  and  our  barrage  which 
started  at  7 :25  had  gone  on  and  ceased.  The  lines 
advanced  to  the  crest  north  of  the  road  but  could  go 
no  further.  Heavy  and  continuous  machine  gun  fire 
from  front  and  both  flanks  held  us  on  the  crest.  The 
report  of  operations  Oct.  15th  state?  tne  situation  as 
follows:  "In  accordance  with  F.  O.  25,  the  Division 
continued  the  attack  this  morning,  got  off  on.  time, 
but  after  a  short  advance  was  compelled  to  halt  on 
account  of  left  and  right  Divisions  being  unable  to 
advance."  During  the  afternoon  the  attack  was 
pushed  again  and  the  Ravine  Aux  Pierres  reached.  20 
machine  guns  and  some  prisoners  were  taken.  The 
Ravine  was  so  thoroughly  swept  by  enemy  fire,  that 
the  troops  withdrew  again  to  the  crest  north  of  the 
main  road  and  dug  in  for  the  night.     The  men  were 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  223 

now  nearly  at  the  point  of  exhaustion  from  lack  of 
sleep  and  from  constant  exposure  to  the  cold  and 
rain.  The  C.  O.  1st  Battalion  reported  his  effectives 
as  7  officers  and  125  men;  the  C.  O.  3rd  Battalion 
reported  3  officers  and  175  men.  The  night  found  us 
dug  in  along  the  road. 

Our  Machine  Gun  Company  had  been  detached  and 
sent  to  Hill  182  North  of  Saint-Jiivin.  The  Boche 
still  held  the  West  side  of  that  town.  An  enemy  at- 
tack against  the  town  from  the  North  was  completely 
routed  by  the  Company,  without  any  Infantry  as- 
sistance. Capt.  Williams  reported  his  Company  alone 
in  this  exposed  position  all  day.  He  won  his  D.  S.  C. 
here  for  the  rescue  of  an  American  from  five  armed 
Germans.  He  dropped  three  with  his  pistol,  wrested 
the  rifle  from  the  fourth,  while  the  fifth  Boche  ran 
away.  This  was  a  real  wild  west  show.  He  then  ran 
his  guns  forward  and  spent  a  profitable  day  killing 
Boche  who  were  filtering  out  of  Saint- Juvin  toward 
CJiampignuelles.    He  claims  200. 

Casualties  Oct.  15th: 

Killed. 
1st  Lieut.  Thomas  L.  Bolster. 

Wounded. 
1st  Lieut.  W.  P.  Whelchel. 
1st  Lieut.  Fred  S.  Laubert. 
2nd  Lieut.  Wilbert  Moore. 
2nd  Lieut.  Fred  S.  Trumbull. 

Oct.  16th.  During  the  night  orders  were  received 
for  another  attack  by  the  First  Army  at  6  hours.  The 
78th  Division  was  to  attack  on  our  left  and  the  42nd 
on  our  right.  We  were  to  conform  to  the  movement 
of  the  78th.  Our  2nd  Battalion  was  placed  under  the 
orders  of  the  Brigade  Commander  to  capture  Cham- 
pigmielles.  His  orders  for  this  operation  are  shown 
further  on.  The  2nd  Battalion  of  the  326th  was  given 
to  the  325th  and  placed  in  support.  The  3rd  Bat- 
talion was  to  pass  through  the  line  of  the  1st  Battalion 


224  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

and  form  the  attacking  line.  At  H-hour  the  movement 
started.  In  spite  of  severe  machine  gun  resistance  we 
succeeded  in  pushing  the  left  of  our  line  into  the 
Ravine  Aux  Pierres.  The  units  that  reached  the  rav- 
ine were  Co.'s  "K"  and  "L."  Our  right  was  unable 
to  advance  and  the  troops  were  driven  back  from  the 
Ravine.  An  artillery  barrage  was  called  for  to  assist 
the  advance  but  it  fell  short.  The  following  messages 
show  the  progress  of  the  action : 

"From  :  3rd  Bn.  9 :20. 

"Left  and  center  of  front  line  in  Ravine  Aux  Pier- 
res  at  98.0-86.8  to  about  98.5-87.0.  The  right  of  our 
line  is  just  South  of  the  Ravine  held  up  by  M.  G.  fire 
from  right  flank.  Troops  on  our  right  reported  not 
advancing.  Our  second  line  is  just  North  of  road 
from  Saint- Juvin  to  Saint-Georges.  Our  3rd  line  is 
500  meters  further  to  rear. 

Melton/' 

.  "Later.  Report  that  326th  has  fallen  back  to  Saint- 
Juvin-Saint-Gcorgcs  road,  leaving  left  flank  of  325th 
unprotected  and  24  kilometers  ahead  and  subjected  to 
fire.  Urge  immediate  action  to  save  Command  from 
destruction. 

Melton/' 

14:20.  Lieut.  Col.  Campbell  reports  that  front 
lines  are  in  shell  holes  1/3  of  distance  between  road 
and  Ravine. 

The  following  message  from  Division  Hdqrs.  is 
significant : 

"From  Captain  Morgan,  to:  Austin  1,  16th  Oct. 

"Am  informed  that  42nd  Division  not  only  did  not 
receive  orders  to  attack  today  but  were  ordered  by  the 
Army  not  to  attack.  Also  that  one  regiment  of  the 
78th  Division  did  not  receive  the  order  to  attack  until 
10  o'clock  this  morning." 

The  82nd  Division  seemed  always  to  be  in  a  salient. 

The  situation  is  depicted  by  Lieut.  Col.  Campbell 
from  the  front  line  in  the  following  message : 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 225 

"16th  Oct.     To:  Austin- 1. 

"Came  out  through  vicious  barrage.  All  over  now. 
M.  G.  fire  coming  over,  not  bad.  Varnado  killed.  Es- 
timate less  than  250  in  both  battalions  remaining  fit 
for  duty.  Counter  attack  by  enemy  would  be  bad. 
Lines  as  stated  by  phone.  Am  not  a  calamity  howler, 
but  the  officers  and  men  are  all  in.  Jones  in  good 
position  as  reserve  but  of  course  no  shelter  from  ele- 
ments. Will  get  Melton  and  Castle  together  and  or- 
ganize. Will  move  Jones  back  slightly,  and  put  Mel- 
ton in  support  with  his  battalion  less  than  100.  Castle 
with  1st  Battalion  and  Cozine  to  hold  line  of  road  and 
have  advanced  parties  in  shell  holes  in  front  200  yards. 
Am  starting  this  now,  execution  of  same  to  be  made 
at  dark. 

Campbell/'' 

Conditions  were  now  bad.  The  Chauchat  rifles 
were  all  out  of  working  order.  Enemy  planes  flew 
over  our  lines  and  directed  harassing  fire  upon  us. 

The  effective  strength  at  nightfall  was  reported  as 
follows : 

1st    Battalion  5  Officers  175  men 

3rd  Battalion  3  Officers  120  men 

2nd  Battalion         17  Officers  361  men 

Captain  Varnado  was  rendered  unconscious  by  a 
bursting  shell  and  was  left  in  the  ravine  for  dead. 
Five  days  later  he  was  rescued  by  our  advancing  lines. 
He  had  a  spark  of  life  left  and  he  eventually  recov- 
ered. 

Going  back  to  the  operation  of  the  2nd  Battalion 
which  had  been  detached  from  the  Regiment  on  ac- 
count of  its  strength,  the  orders  given  to  it  were  as 
follows : 

"From:  Austin-1,  to:  C.  O.  2nd  Battalion,  325th 
Inf. 

"16th  Oct.  You  will  advance  with  your  battalion 
and  establish  a  line  from  CJiampignuelles  exclusive  to 
points  97.3-87.4  South  East  to  98.0-86.3  connecting 
on  your   right  with   first   battalion   326th   Inf.      The 


226         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

principal  left  position  will  be  in  the  hollow  97.3-87.3 
and  other  positions  in  the  Ravine  will  be  taken  along 
the  Western  slopes  between  the  mouth  of  the  Ravine 
South  East  to  the  end  of  your  line. 

"You  will  advance  one  company  at  a  time  at  long 
distances,  keeping  pace  with  the  78th  Division  on  our 
left.  Your  movement  is  designed  to  protect  right 
flank  of  the  78th  from  the  east  side  of  the  valley  of 
the  Agron.  You  will  not  advance  to  your  Northern 
limit  unless  protected  from  counter  attack  from 
Champignuelles  either  because  Champignuelles  is  in 
American  hands  or  the  ground  prevents  counter  at- 
tack from  that  direction. 

By  Command  Gen.  Cronin. 

This  movement  was  started  but  was  checked  by 
enemy  M.  G.  fire  from  Champignuelles  and  the  ad- 
jacent heights.  When  the  assault  line  had  advanced 
500  meters  North  of  our  front  line  the  Brigade  Com- 
mander ordered  a  withdrawal. 

The  2nd  Battalion,  326th  was  during  the  night 
moved  to  our  front  line,  relieving  the  1st  Battalion 
325th.  The  Saint-Juvin-Saint-Gcorges  road  was  now 
accepted  as  our  front  line  with  out-posts  formed  on 
the  crest  to  the  North. 

The  following  Officers  were  casualties  during  the 
day: 

Wounded. 
Capt.  Samuel  Varnado. 
Capt.  W.  O.  Marshburn. 
1st  Lieut.  J.  D.  Deramus. 

Our  M.  G.  Co.  was  moved  back  to  South  slope  of 
ridge  85.5  and  put  under  command  of  C.  O.  Machine 
gun  Battalion. 

Oct.  17th.  No  attack  was  ordered  and  no  demon- 
stration was  made  by  the  enemy. 

The  following  Officer  was  killed  during  the  day : 

1st  Lieut.  George  McCord. 
Our  M.  G.  Co.  was  moved  back  to  Saint-Juvin  from 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 227 

which  position  it  covered  the  movement  of  troops  in 
the  advance. 

Oct.  18th.  The  attack  of  the  First  Army  was  re- 
sumed at  6 :30.  The  82nd  Division  was  to  support 
and  protect  right  flank  of  the  78th  Division.  Cham- 
pignuelles  was  to  be  gassed.  Harassing  fire  was  exe- 
cuted along  the  front.  In  the  163rd  Brigade  the  line 
between  the  325th  and  326th  was  Meridian  97.3. 
This  Regiment  occupied  the  right  half  of  the  sector 
with  following  arrangement  of  Battalions  500  meters 
apart : 

2nd  Battalion  326th. 

3rd  Battalion  325th. 

1st    Battalion  325th. 

The  shift  to  accomplish  this  was  completed  by  5 
hours  Oct.  18th.  No  advance  was  made  in  our  lines. 
Patrols  were  sent  out  to  watch  the  front.  Our  2nd 
Battalion  which  was  acting  with  326th  Infantry  re- 
lieved the  1st  Battalion  309th  Inf.  in  Saint- J  twin  and 
maintained  liaison  with  78th  Division  in  Bois-de^ 
Loges. 

Our  M.  G.  Co.  was  put  in  Brigade  Reserve  and  re- 
mained in  that  status  until  Oct.  21st. 

Oct.  19th.     No  change. 

The  following  Officer  was  wounded  this  date  and 
died  soon  afterward : 

2nd  Lieut.  Joseph  L.  Lang. 

Oct.  20th.  The  position  was  wired  during  the  night 
North  of  the  main  road.  The  2nd  Battalion,  326th 
passed  out  of  command  of  C.  O.  325th  and  went  into 
Brigade  Reserve.  Its  place  was  taken  by  our  3rd 
Battalion.  Our  2nd  Battalion  returned  to  the  Regi- 
ment and  was  placed  in  reserve  on  ridge  85.5.  Our 
1st  Battalion  then  supported  the  leading  Battalion  at 
about  500  meters  in  rear. 

The  following  Officers  were  wounded  during  the 
day: 

1st  Lieut.  Charles  C.  Bettes. 
2nd  Lieut.  Fred  E.  Hoffman. 


228  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Oct.  21st.  Co.  "A"  under  Lieut.  Ulmer  was  or- 
dered to  seize  the  Ravine  Aux-Pierres  and  the  slope  to 
the  north  thereof  and  to  explore  the  ground  to  North 
East  of  this  Ravine  and  the  adjacent  woods.  Move- 
ment to  start  at  6-hours.  The  progress  of  this  com- 
pany is  best  told  by  Lieut,  (now  Capt.)  Ulmer  as 
follows : 

"The  company  had  one  officer  and  40  men  left  of 
an  original  strength  of  4  officers  and  220  men.  These 
40  men  were  practically  dead  from  exhaustion  and 
sickness.  When  the  company  reached  its  objective, 
there  were  but  eleven  men  left ;  the  others  having 
succumbed  to  fatigue.  The  spirit  was  willing  but  the 
flesh  was  weak.  After  reaching  the  high  ground 
North  of  Ravine  Aux-Pierres  the  Battalion  comman- 
der was  notified  and  the  rest  of  the  Battalion  brought 
up.  A  new  line  was  consolidated  and  wired,  and 
nothing  further  of  interest  occurred,  except  the  sys- 
tem of  regular  two  day  reliefs." 

This  exploitation  operation  was  protected  by  M.  G. 
fire  and  artillery  fire  of  12  guns,  commencing  at  5  :30 
on  North  slope  of  the  Ravine.  This  fire  was  raised  at 
6  hours  and  continued  until  7.  Both  flanks  of  the 
Company  were  covered  by  patrols. 

The  situation  as  reported  at  4  P.  M.  by  Lieut.  Col. 
Campbell  is  best  shown  by  his  cheery  message  to 
Whitman : 

"Oct.  21st. 

"I  gave  "D"  Co.  back  to  Castle  at  his  request.  Phones 
all  out,  please  try  to  get  them  in.  Everything  lovely 
so  far.  Pretty  heavy  shelling.  Will  stick  around 
for  an  hour  or  so  and  mosey  back.  Castle  is  driving 
this  thing  in  good  style.  M.  G.  positions  being  recon- 
noitered  and  I  think  everything  O.  K.  if  326  will  look 
out  for  left. 

Campbell." 

Nothing  further  of  interest  occurred  and  no  at- 
tacks called  for  up  to  Oct.  31st  on  which  date  the 
Division   left   the   sector   and   the   325th   passed   into 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  229 

Corps  Reserve,  being  relieved  by  battalions  of  the 
80th  and  77th  Divisions. 

On  Oct.  26th  the  following  was  reported. 

"To  C.  O.  163rd  Brigade. 

"The  C.  O.  1st  Battalion  reported  at  16:10  hours 
2  planes  firing  with  Machine  Guns  on  his  position 
along  Saint- Juvin-Saint-Georges  road.  These  planes 
were  clearly  marked  with  U.  S.  insignia  and  were  num- 
bered 2  and  17.  At  16:15  hours  similar  report  was 
received  from  C.  O.  3rd  Battalion  that  same  2  planes 
fired  on  his  front  line  in  position  North  of  Ravine 
Aux-Pierres.  From  observation  point  near  RegH 
mental  P.  C.  these  planes  were  seen  firing  tracer  bul- 
lets. The  planes  were  later  seen  retiring  in  a  South- 
erly   direction.      Request     prompt    investigation    and 

proper  action.  ,,7  „ 

v    v  Whitman. 

Our  work  in  the  front  line  was  now  over.  During 
the  night  of  Oct.  31st  we  withdrew  to  the  Argonne 
Forest  as  reserve.  From  there  we  fell  back  by  short 
stages  to  Neufour,  Pagny-la-Blanche-C6te,  Soulacourt 
and  other  towns  to  reorganize  our  shattered  forces. 
On  the  march  back  we  heard  on  Nov.  11th  of  the 
armistice.  It  was  with  intense  relief  that  we  received 
this  news.  The  325th  had  done  its  bit  nobly  and  had 
come  through  the  greatest  war  in,  the  world's  history 
much  reduced  in  numbers  but  conscious  that  it  had 
played  no  mean  part  in  the  struggle  for  human  liberty 
and  in  the  suppression  of  the  selfish  and  ambitious 
schemes  of  the  most  powerful  military  nation  that  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  When  the  work  of  the  peace 
commission  is  finally  concluded  we  will  return  to  the 
homeland  and  to  the  resumption  of  the  duties  in 
civilian  life  that  we  left  to  answer  the  call  to  arms. 
All  of  us  that  have  survived  will  be  better  fitted  physi- 
cally and  morally  to  do  our  part,  in  our  country,  in 
the  development  of  the  high  ideals  for  which  we  have 
fought  in  France. 

W.  M.  WHITMAN, 
Colonel  325th  Infantrv. 


230  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

\\[).  82D  DIV.,  AMERICAN  E.  F.,  FRANCE 

13  January  1919. 
GENERAL  ORDERS 
NO.  1 : 

1.  The  Commanding  General  announces  to  the 
Command  the  splendid  conduct  of  the  following 
officers  and  soldiers  in  action  against  the  enemy  as 
described   after   their   respective   names: 

EXTRACT 
Sgt  Victor  1897348  Vigorito,  Co.  A,  325th  Infantry. 

On  October  15,  1918,  near  ST.  JUVIN,  FRANCE, 
Sgt.  Vigorito,  with  great  bravery  and  devotion  to  duty, 
refused  to  leave  his  platoon,  altho  severely  wounded, 
and  continued  to  fight  until  an  enemy  counter-attack 
had  been  repulsed ;  and,  by  this  fine  example,  en- 
couraged the  men  of  his  platoon  to  greater  effort. 

2.  The  Commanding  General  takes  particular  pride 
in  announcing  to  the  Command  these  fine  examples  of 
courage  and  self-sacrifice.  Such  deeds  are  evidence 
of  that  spirit  of  heroism  which  is  innate  in  the  highest 
type  of  the  American  soldier  and  responds  unfailingly 
to  the  call  of  duty,  wherever  or  whenever  it  may  come. 

3.  This  order  will  be  read  to  all  organizations  at 
the  first  formation  after  its  receipt. 

By  Command  of  MAJOR  GENERAL  DUNCAN: 

Gordon  Johnston, 
OFFICIAL:  Chief  of  Staff. 

R.  L.  Boyd, 

Major,  A.G.D.,  Adjutant. 

Editor's  Note. — At  this  place  Vigorito  ended  his 
story.  There  is  more  of  it  that  needs  to  be  told  for 
him. 

Vigorito  was  wounded  in  charging  a  machine  gun 
nest.  Of  the  bit  of  action  the  Brooklyn  Daily  Eagle 
of  February  11,  1918,  in  an  article  about  this  soldier, 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  231 

quotes  him  as  saying :  ''I  remember  our  commander 
shouting  'Don't  bunch  up,  boys.' 

''Sergeant  O'Brien  of  the  first  platoon  was  easily  the 
first  man  to  reach  it  from  the  front,  and  he  threw  a 
grenade.  Sergeant  Orr  of  the  third  platoon  attacked 
from  the  right,  and  I,  with  the  faithful  Fourth,  at- 
tacked from  the  left.  Although  we  captured  this  im- 
portant position,  it  was  at  this  spot,  Sergeant  Orr  was 
killed,  Sergeant  O'Brien  and  myself  wounded. 

"Our  commanding  officer,  still  thoughtful  of  his 
men,  quickly  bandaged  my  wound,  as  he  beckoned  for 
the  Germans  we  had  captured,  to  proceed  to  the  rear. 
I  ran  over  to  my  men,  although  T  was  ordered  to  the 
dressing  station  for  treatment.  I  don't  remember  what 
happened  after  this,  as  I  fainted  from  loss  of  blood." 


SERGEANT  MICHAEL  DONALDSON 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  233 


XII 


THE  NATIONAL  ARMY  AND  OTHER  TROOPS 

STORIES  OF  THE  77TH,  38TH,  42ND,  26TH, 
ENGINEERS,  ETC 

Sergeant  Michael  Donaldson 

Born  in  Haverstraw,  moved  to  New  York  City.  Enlisted  in 
69th  Regiment  July  13,  1917.  Overseas  with  Regiment.  Pro- 
moted for  bravery.  Awarded  Distinguished  Service  Cross, 
Croix  de  Guerre  with  palm,  Medaille  Militaire  and  recom- 
mended for  Congressional  Medal  of  Honor.  A  tribute  to 
Father  Duffy. 

His  Own  Story 


HONORABLE  DISCHARGE  FROM  THE 
UNITED  STATES  ARMY 

To  All  Whom  It  May  Concern  : 

THIS  IS  TO  CERTIFY,  That  Michael  A.  Don- 
aldson, Sgt.  Co.  L,  165th  Infantry,  THE  UNITED 
STATES  ARMY,  as  a  Testimonial  of  Honest  and 
Faithful  Service,  is  hereby  Honorably  Discharged 
from  the  military  service  of  the  United  States  bv 
reason  of  Circular  106  W.  D.,  1918. 

Said  Michael  A.  Donaldson  was  born  in  Haver- 
straw, in  the  State  of  New  York.  When  he  enlisted 
he  was  30  2/12  years  of  age  and  by  occupation  a 
boxing  instructor. 

He  had  Blue  eyes,  Brown  hair,  Fair  complexion,  and 
was  5  feet  10  inches  in  height. 

Given  under  my  hand  at  Camp  Dix,  N.  J.,  this  5th 
day  of  May,  one  thousand  nine  hundred  and  nine- 
teen. 


234         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

ENLISTMENT  RECORD 

Name:     Michael  A.   Donaldson.     Grade:     Sergt. 

Enlisted,  July  13th,  1917,  at  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Serving  in  first  enlistment  period  of  date  of  discharge. 

Prior  service:*     None. 

Non-commissioned  officer:     Sergt. 

Marksmanship,  gunner  qualification  or  rating:  Not 
qualified. 

Horsemanship :    Not  mounted. 

Battles,  engagements,  skirmishes,  expeditions :  Cham- 
pagne, Marne  Def.  Oisne,  Marne  Def.,  Meuse,  Ar- 
gonne  Off.,  St.  Mehiel  Off.,  Luneville  Sec,  Bac- 
corat  Sec,  Fre  de  Vadenay  Sec,  Pannes  Essy  Sec, 
Army  of  Occupation. 

Knowledge  of  any  vocation :    Boxing  instructor. 

Wounds  received  in  service:     None. 

Physical  condition  when  discharged :     Good. 

Typhoid  Prophylaxis  completed  Sept.  1st,  1917. 

Paratyphoid   Prophylaxis  completed   Sept.    1st,   1917. 

Married  or  single  :    Single. 

CHARACTER:    Excellent. 

Remarks:  Distinguished  Service  Cross,  Medaille 
Militaire,  Croix  de  Guerre,  Served  with  Co.  I.,  165th 
Inf.  from  July  13th,  1917,  to  date  of  Dischg.  Pro- 
moted for  bravery.    Served  in  France  and  Germany. 

A.W.O.L.  from  8-12-18  to  9-15-18. 

Signature  of  soldier. 

My  name  is  Michael  A.  Donaldson.  I  was  born  in 
Haverstraw,  N.  Y.,  on  May  6th,  1887.  About  six 
years  ago  I  came  to  New  York  City.  On  July  13th, 
1917,  I  enlisted  in  the  Sixty-ninth  Infantry,  Co.  I., 
under  the  late  Major  James  A.  McKenna,  Jr.  The 
day  after  war  was  declared  I  had  volunteered  to  fight 
for  my  country,  and  telegraphed  to  President  Wilson. 
He  sent  me  a  card  thanking  me  for  the  offer  of  my 
services. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  235 

I  trained  at  Camp  Mills  and  went  overseas  by  way 
of  Montreal  on  the  good  ship  "Tunisian,"  which  was 
sunk  on  the  return  trip  to  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  by  a 
German  torpedo.  Landed  at  Liverpool,  and  remained 
in  England  for  a  day ;  then  crossed  the  English 
Channel  on  the  "Londonderry"  to  La  Havre,  France. 
YYe  stayed  at  Havre  two  days,  and  then  entrained  for 
Bouve,  which  is  thirty  kilos  from  the  birthplace  of 
Joan  of  Arc. 

Under  command  of  the  late  Major  McKenna,  one 
of  the  greatest  leaders  of  men  the  world  has  ever 
had,  we  trained  for  open  warfare,  and  learned  all 
the  tricks  of  the  Boche.  We  remained  there  for  three 
weeks,  building  rifle  ranges,  and  devoting  some  time 
to  bayonet  practice.  Then  we  started  on  the  famous 
four-day  hike  to  the  ancient  city  of  La  Grande, 
France.  This  was  one  of  the  world's  most  famous 
hikes,  made  through  snow  and  sleet. 

We  remained  at  Bouve  until  Christmas  Day,  and 
then  wrent  to  Hennilly  Cotton,  from  where  we  went  to 
Langau.  There  began  our  strenuous  training  for  in- 
troduction to  the  trenches.  Col.  Wm.  J.  Donovan 
of  our  regiment,  was  in  command  as  Major  at  that 
time.  Major  McKenna  was  then  a  captain,  and  that 
soldier  of  soldiers,  Rev.  Francis  P.  Duffy,  one  of 
God's  noblest  men,  gave  us  a  50-50  heart  to  heart  talk 
on  playing  the  game  as  American  soldiers  should. 

He  was  with  us  in  all  our  trials  and  weary  marches, 
the  dreary  days  in  the  trenches,  when  it  seemed  next 
to  impossible  that  we  would  ever  come  out  alive,  and 
by  his  example,  his  brave  understanding,  comradeship 
and  his  great  spirituality,  he  breathed  the  fire  of  life 
into  the  soul  of  the  Sixty-ninth. 

To  Father  Duffy,  perhaps  more  than  to  any  other 
one  man,  just  and  generous  recognition  is  due  for  the 
splendid  work  which  the  Sixty-ninth  Regiment  wrote 
into  the  military  history  of  the  United  States  Army. 

I  never  will  forget  the  day  of  my  first  baptism  of 
fire  from  the  black-skulled  Huns.  It  was  at  Lune- 
ville,    where   the    Sixty-ninth    first    came    under   fire. 


236  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

Captain  McKenna  was  in  Co.  D  at  that  time,  the  first 
company  of  our  regiment  to  go  into  action  for  democ- 
racy against  Prussian  militarism. 

We  came  up  in  the  morning  about  nine  o'clock  into 
an  innocent  looking  woods,  from  the  outside,  but  what 
a  devilish  place  it  proved  to  be  when  once  we  were  in 
it.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  I  was  stand- 
ing beside  Lieutenant  Hally  Crimmins  and  Sergeant 
Gainey  of  Co.  D.  We  were  near  an  outpost,  when  the 
Boche  tossed  over  one  of  their  Austrian  88's,  and 
struck  a  small  shanty  about  ten  feet  away  from  where 
we  were  standing,  hitting  and  wounding  Corporal 
Lyons  and  Private  Thayer.  They  followed  that  up 
with  a  vindictive  bombardment,  and  we  were  all  ner- 
vous for  the  time  being,  but  never  a  man  backed  an 
inch.  We  stayed  where  we  were  put,  because  we  had 
gone  to  France  for  that  purpose : — to  drive  the  Hun, 
and  not  be  driven  by  him. 

We  finally  entered  the  trenches,  took  over  the  sec- 
tor, and  then  the  fun  began.  This  was  in  the  win- 
ter, February  27th. 

Now  just  get  what  that  means.  Long  zig-zagging 
trenches  whose  parapets  were  swept  by  machine-gun 
fire  and  combed  by  German  snipers.  The  trenches, 
themselves,  knee  deep  in  mud,  and  sometimes  worse 
than  that.  The  little  dugouts  provided  for  the  shelter 
of  the  men  from  shell  fire,  alive  with  vermin,  walls 
damp,  and  floors  muddy.  The  weather  was  a  com- 
bination of  snow  and  rain,  so  that  between  the  two. 
we  knew  about  the  sum  of  human  misery. 

It  was  our  first  experience,  but  the  steel  was  in  our 
hearts  and  the  gallant  example  of  our  officers  sup- 
ported us  through  these  first  awful  hours.  I  cannot 
say  too  much  about  the  splendid  discipline  of  our 
men.  For  after  all,  we  expected  the  officers  to  be 
brave  and  uncomplaining,  but  the  great  miracle  was 
the  behavior  of  the  boys  themselves,  the  intelligent 
bravery  of  these  men  who  had  volunteered  to  live  or 
die,  that  the  cause  of  right  might  triumph.  We  knew 
that  we  had  to  buy  victory  with  human  agony  and 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 237 

the  blood  of  our  best  men,  we  were  there  to  pay  the 
price,  and  pay  we  did,  but  don't  forget  that  the  Boche 
paid  in  full  for  all  that  we  went  through. 

On  March  8th,  we  came  out  from  our  first  experi- 
ences on  the  line,  sure  of  ourselves,  for  we  had  the 
Boche's  number,  and  we  knew  that  man  for  man  we 
were  better  than  he  was.  As  we  were  going  out  of 
the  lines,  we  met  the  149th  Artillery  from  Chicago, 
which  had  been  behind  us  when  we  were  in  the 
trenches.    One  of  the  boys  called  to  me : 

"How  do  you  feel,  Mike?" 

"Splendid,"  said  I,  "and  I'll  tell  you  Chicago  fel- 
lows something,  that  the  Sixty-ninth  will  walk  into 
hell,  with  a  smile  and  a  cigarette,  as  long  as  the  good 
old  149th  Artillery  is  behind  us  with  their  guns." 

I'll  tell  you  something,  a  lot  of  credit  wants  to  be 
given  to  these  Chicago  boys  of  the  149th  Artillery,  who 
had  come  out  of  civil  life,  the  same  as  the  rest  of  us 
had,  and  in  so  short  a  time  learned  to  handle  their 
guns  so  well,  that  the  Hun  himself  knew  a  special 
high-powered,  new  f angled  kind  of  hell  had  been 
brought  over  from  America,  whenever  he  found  the 
Sixty-ninth  in  the  line  with  the  guns  of  the  149th 
barking  at  their  heels. 

Some  time  after  this,  along  in  April,  we  did  our 
second  hitch  in  the  trenches ;  this  was  at  Montigny  in 
the  Baccarat  sector,  and  an  awful  place  that  sector 
was.  I  have  seen  articles  in  the  paper  which  referred 
to  it  as  a  "rest  sector"  and  "training  sector,"  but  I'll 
tell  New  York  and  the  World  that  it  was  a  darned 
poor  place  to  work,  for  they  sure  did  keep  me  busy. 

There  I  had  some  very  interesting  experiences, 
when  Captain  McKenna  sent  Lieutenant  Edw.  Con- 
nolly, Sergeant  Tom  O'Malley  and  myself  to  what 
he  described,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye  as  "a  quiet 
listening  post." 

I'll  tell  you  just  about  how  quiet  it  was.  The  sec- 
ond day,  while  I  was  doing  a  twelve  hour  shift,  the 
hour  before  dawn,  which  is  the  lonesomest  hour  in 
the  world  to  a  soldier  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  the 


238  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

very  time  when  men's  spirits  are  lowest,  and  life  it- 
self seems  to  hang  by  but  a  thread,  when  one  is  mind- 
ful that  the  lives  of  hundreds  of  his  comrades,  the 
reputation  of  the  regiment,  and  the  troops  of  his 
country  are  in  his  hands. 

My  instructions  that  night  from  Lieutenant  Con- 
nolly were,  "Look  out  for  mustard  gas !" 

Just  in  front  of  my  post,  where  Corporal  Tex 
Baker,  of  Co.  B,  Sixty-ninth,  was  killed,  the  German 
snipers  had  a  camouflaged  position  from  which  they 
were  firing  on  the  intermediate  post.  A  fellow  named 
Matthews  pegged  a  few  back.  That  set  me  a-going, 
and,  forgetting  that  on  my  listening  post  I  should 
keep  myself  concealed,  I  took  the  chance  of  giving 
them  a  few  on  my  own  account. 

Believe  me,  I  started  something  then. 

What  followed,  was  the  greatest  razzle-dazzle  I 
was  ever  in.  I  fired  280  rounds  before  I  stopped. 
You  could  have  broiled  a  steak  on  the  barrel  of  my 
old  Springfield;  but  I'll  say  this  was  a  quiet  sector 
after  that,  and  perhaps  that  is  the  time  that  the  news- 
paper correspondents  saw  it  and  wrote  about  it. 

Of  course,  the  Germans  did  not  publish  their  casu- 
alty lists,  but  if  anyone  could  get  hold  of  the  records 
of  the  German  war  office  for  that  day,  they  would  find 
that  the  German  clerks  worked  overtime  that  night, 
while  when  the  Sixty-ninth  counted  off,  we  were  all 
present  and  accounted  for.  I  well  remember  the  quiet 
smile  on  Major  McKenna's  face  when  we  met  as  I 
came  back  from  that  row.  I  heard  it  said  that  Mc- 
Kenna  only  smiles  once  in  a  while.  It  was  also  re- 
ported that  when  the  Colonel  told  Father  Duffy  about 
it,  the  corners  of  the  Father's  mouth  turned  up. 

The  next  big  days  of  duty  in  which  the  Sixty-ninth 
figured,  were  in  the  Champagne-Marne  fighting.  It 
was  at  Chalons  sur  Marne  on  July  15th  that  the  Boche 
really  found  out  just  what  we  had  to  offer. 

You  will  recall,  from  what  you  have  read  of  the 
war  in  France,  that  the  Germans  had  broken  through 
the  French  front  and  advanced  through  the  lines  at 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  239 

one  place  across  the  Marne,  while  at  Chateau-Thierry, 
their  advance  was  only  thirty-five  miles  from  Paris. 

They  had  brought  up  and  put  in  place  their  big 
Berthas  with  which  they  intended  to  bombard  Paris. 
The  capture  of  Chalons  was  the  first  thing  to  be  done. 

Here  we  had  a  real  chance  at  that  open  style  of  war- 
fare which  Americans  like,  and  at  which  we  have  no 
equals  in  the  world,  unless  perhaps  it  be  the  fellows 
from  Canada  and  Australia,  who  think  as  we  do.  Our 
guests  on  this  day  were  the  famous  Prussian  guards, 
the  finest  fighting  men  in  the  German  army,  here  was 
their  introduction  to  us,  and  ours  to  them.  We  had 
been  looking  for  them  for  some  time,  and  when  we 
met  it  was  a  case  of  Greek  meeting  Greek.  They  had 
been  told  that  the  Americans  were  in  front  of  them, 
and  that  nothing  would  do  so  much  to  hasten  the 
German  victory  as  to  wipe  out  the  Americans,  and 
there  wasn't  a  boy  in  the  Sixty-ninth  who  didn't  know 
that  the  rougher  we  treated  the  Prussian  guards,  the 
quicker  would  the  war  be  over. 

What  we  did  to  the  Prussian  guards  created  a  scan- 
dal in  the  Royal  family  that  day,  and  the  Crown 
Prince  got  lock-jaw  trying  to  explain  to  the  Kaiser 
why  it  was  that  the  wild  Irishmen  of  the  Sixty-ninth 
had  failed  to  surrender  to  the  son  of  the  All-highest. 

Iowa  and  Alabama  were  in  the  line  that  day,  along 
with  the  Sixty-ninth,  and  Ohio  as  well.  But  the 
Prussian  guards,  as  they  advanced  to  attack  our  lines, 
passed  these  other  Americans  and  struck  at  the  Sec- 
ond Battalion  of  the  Sixty-ninth,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Major  Anderson  and  Capt.  Johnny  Proutt. 
There  was  joy  in  the  hearts  of  the  Sixty-ninth  as  they 
saw  themselves  singled  out  by  the  flower  of  the  Hun 
army  for  this  delicate  attention. 

The  Germans  advanced  in  mass  formation,  filled 
with  the  idea  that  they  were  going  to  walk  over  the 
Irish  and  head  a  triumphal  march  to  Paris. 

The  old  149th  Artillery  was  laying  "doggo"  back 
of  our  line  and  had  their  guns  trained  on  the  ap- 
proaching Huns. 


2  10  ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

The  Second  Battalion  held  its  fire ;  the  guns  were 
silent;  the  Germans  swept  on  with  rising  spirits  to 
what  looked  like  an  easy  victory. 

But,  oh  boy !  we  could  almost  see  the  whites  of 
their  eyes  when  the  149th  Artillery  sent  them  a  card 
with  the  compliments  of  Bath-House  John.  The  card 
consisted  of  a  squall  of  shrapnel,  in  which  the  guns 
crossed  their  fire,  and  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 
deep  bass  of  the  guns,  the  infantry  of  the  Rainbows 
opened  up  from  all  flanks.  It  sure  was  some  fighting. 
The  Rye  Loaves  danced  on  the  barb-wire  in  front  of 
the  position  for  seven  kilos,  looking  like  dancing  mar- 
ionettes in  the  Punch  and  Judy  show. 

Of  course,  the  Hun  got  his  taste  of  our  blood,  for 
the  Sixty-ninth  alone  reported  some  138  casualties, 
but  the  ground  before  us  was  carpeted  with  the  dead 
of  the  Prussian  guard,  which  had  its  ranks  shot  to 
pieces  and  its  morale  broken,  as  the  result  of  this  first 
encounter  with  the  American  boys. 

This  was  the  turning  point  of  the  war.  The  mili- 
tary action  in  this  battle  was  decisive,  in  the  way  the 
German  morale  was  broken  from  the  minute  when  the 
Germany  army  had  its  best  troops  whipped  by  a  few 
Americans,  who  had  dropped  their  business  to  take 
up  soldiering  for  the  few  months  needed  to  finish  the 
job.  Forty  years  of  intensive  military  training  was 
behind  the  Boche,  and  scarcely  as  many  weeks  back 
of  the  Yankees. 

We  left  Champagne  on  July  18th  for  Vandenay  in 
the  Chateau-Thierry  sector,  to  finish  the  work  which 
the  First,  Second  and  Third  Divisions  had  started.  We 
had  lots  of  help,  for  it  seemed  that  all  the  Americans 
in  France  were  headed  our  way.  Just  to  keep  our 
fighting  edge  sharp  while  we  were  resting  at  Vande- 
nay, the  German  fliers  paid  us  a  night  visit.  They 
bombed  us,  and  we  had  to  take  it,  and  it  certainly 
warmed  us  up  for  work  that  was  ahead. 

We  entrained  at  St.  Hillaire,  and  after  two  days 
L,rot  off  at  Chateau-Thierry  and  hiked  through  the 
rain,  sleeping  in  the  woods  until  on  the  night  of  the 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  241 

27th  of  July,  when  we  came  under  the  heaviest  bom- 
bordment  we  ever  experienced  during  the  war.  The 
following  morning  we  got  orders  to  go  "over  the  top." 

We  had  to  cross  the  Ourcq.  The  boys  called  it  the 
Red  River,  for  the  stream  sure  did  run  red  with  the 
blood  of  fighting  men  during  the  battle  at  that  place. 

The  first  man  to  cross  the  river  was  Lieutenant 
Patty  Dowling,  of  Co.  K  of  the  Sixty-ninth,  who  gave 
his  life  in  the  line  of  duty,  when  he  led  the  men  across 
the  stream.  It  was  Co.  I.  of  the  Sixty-ninth,  under 
Major  James  A.  McKenna,  Jr.,  who  commanded  what 
was  known  as  the  Shamrock  battalion  of  the  regi- 
ment, that  first  crossed  and  maintained  their  position 
on  the  far  side  of  the  Ourcq. 

What  a  battle  it  was ! 

It  will  always  be  embedded  in  my  memory.  How  I 
hate  to  recall  it  for  so  many  of  my  friends  and  pals 
paid  the  price  in  full  for  our  victory  that  day. 

In  this  fight  I  was  transferred  from  Co.  I  to  Bat- 
talion headquarters  of  Major  McKenna,  as  the  con- 
fidential laison  officer  of  the  battalion.  This  was  in 
recognition  of  my  work  in  previous  engagements  at 
Luneville,  Baccarat  and  Champagne,  and  I  sure  felt 
it  a  great  honor  to  hold  so  trusty  a  position  under  such 
a  brave  and  distinguished  officer,  for  no  war  and  no 
army  ever  produced  a  better  soldier  than  Major  Mc- 
Kenna. I'll  never  forget  the  wave  of  sorrow  that 
swept  over  me  and  the  entire  regiment  when  the  word 
went  out  that  the  gallant  McKenna  was  dead. 

He  died  as  he  would  have  wished,  with  his  face 
to  the  foe,  in  the  midst  of  his  men,  cheering  them 
on,  exposing  himself  while  he  directed  them  how  to 
cover  themselves.  It  brings  the  tears  to  my  eyes,  even 
yet,  as  it  did  on  that  day,  when  I  think  of  the  splendid 
fellow  he  was  and  the  noble  way  in  which  he  died. 

For  this,  too,  the  Germans  paid  in  full,  to  the  flaming 
muzzles  and  the  angry  bayonets  of  the  "Fighting 
Irish."  We  wrote  his  epitaph  in  the  German  casualty 
lists,  and  there  it  will  remain. 

The  whole   German  line   from   Switzerland  to  the 


2  12         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

sea  felt  the  weight  of  our  charge  across  the  Ourcq, 
Eor  it  meant  that  the  German  lines  of  communication 
in  the  Chateau-Thierry  sector  were  cut,  the  strongest 
positions  this  side  of  the  Vesle  River  turned,  while 
the  Hun  was  forced  to  a  rapid  retreat  in  which  he 
ahandoned  troops,  wounded,  machine-guns,  ammuni- 
tion, gathered  for  the  great  offensive  against  Paris. 

It  was  the  69th  that  opened  the  door  and  held  it 
open  for  the  invincible  American  Infantry  to  dash 
through  and  gain  their  positions  along  the  line  of  the 
Vesle  River.  We  were  relieved  after  this  battle,  about 
August  11th,  and  then  went  to  the  rear  for  replace- 
ments, and  God  knows  we  needed  them,  for  companies 
had  been  reduced  to  squads  and  battalions  to  compan- 
ies, while  the  regiment  was  reduced  in  strength.  But 
the  soul  of  the  69th  was  stronger  for  the  lives  of  the 
men  who  had  fought,  and  the  new  men  who  came  to 
us  quickly  gained  the  spirit  of  the  "Fighting  Irish," 
and  we  were  soon  ready  to  do  our  bit  in  the  first  Ail- 
American  offensive  at  St.  Mihiel  on  September  12th. 

St.  Mihiel  was  a  foot  race  more  than  it  was  a  fight. 
Our  artillery  once  more  distinguished  itself.  The 
149th  Artillery  from  Chicago  was  there,  and  it  must 
have  done  their  hearts  good,  when  they  saw  how  easy 
for  us  the  whaling  they  gave  the  so-called  impregnable 
German  positions,  made  the  going  for  us. 

It  may  seem  strange,  when  you  read  about  this  ter- 
rible war,  that  I  went  through  this  fight  without  even 
getting  a  chance  to  fire  a  shot.  We  ran  our  feet  raw, 
trying  to  keep  up  with  the  retreating  Germans.  We 
did  not  fire  our  guns  though  we  took  "kancouf"  pris- 
oners, and  gathered  in  German  guns  and  military 
equipment  until  we  could  not  keep  track  of  them, 
while  the  German  supplies  with  their  stores  of  fine 
German  beer  and  wine,  furnished  us  an  elaborate  menu 
for  the  celebration  of  the  victory,  which  the  69th  and 
the  149th  Inf.  pulled  off  with  a  grand  barrage  of 
popping  corks. 

After  St.  Mihiel,  our  next  fight  was  in  the  Argonne 
Forest.     There  I  began  to  reap  a  harvest  of  decora- 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  243 

tions.  There  came  to  me  the  American  D.  S.  C, 
French  Medaille  Militaire,  the  Croix  de  Guerre  with  a 
palm,  and  also  a  recommendation  for  the  greatest  dec- 
oration in  the  world,  the  American  Congressional 
Medal  of  Honor. 

The  Medaille  Militaire  is  the  highest  French  deco- 
ration to  enlisted  men,  and  carries  the  face  of  the 
saintly  Joan  of  Arc,  who  seemed  to  be  with  us  as  we 
fought  for  that  France  that  she  loved  so  well. 

The  fighting  in  the  Argonne  and  the  taking  of  Hill 
288  at  Landres  St.  George,  called  for  all  the  experience 
and  valor  that  was  in  a  man.  But  we  did  the  job  and 
did  it  right,  though  it  cost  us  the  lives  of  many  brave 
fellows. 

That  was  a  time  when  we  went  to  battle  tired  and 
hungry,  for  we  were  fighting  and  not  feeding,  and  ac- 
cording to  the  old  American  fashion  we  went  hungry 
when  we  fought,  because,  as  the  late  Major  McKenna 
used  to  say,  "An  Irishman  fights  better  on  an  empty 
stomach." 

During  these  trying  days  we  were  greatly  cheered 
by  the  presence  of  Father  Duffy,  and  the  re-appear- 
ance of  his  assistant,  Father  Joseph  Hanley,  of  Cleve- 
land, Ohio,  who  had  been  hit  at  the  Ourcq,  but  got  up 
in  time  for  the  wind-up,  and  to  be  decorated  with  the 
D.  S.  C.  Father  Hanley  was  another  great  favorite 
of  the  boys.  He  was  a  real  fighting  man  and  the  army 
missed  a  great  captain  when  Hanley  went  into  the 
priesthood,  but  he  certainly  made  it  up  as  he  cheered 
us  through  those  bloody  days.  In  the  fighting  in  the 
forest  around  Hill  288,  we  lost  Captain  Mike  Walsh, 
of  Co.  I,  and  in  the  fighting  around  that  hill,  prac- 
tically all  of  the  Old  69th  were  killed  or  wounded. 

Here,  we  were  fighting  what  was  left  of  the  Prus- 
sian Guards,  and  the  best  sharp-shooters  the  German 
army  could  muster  were  against  us  once  more,  with 
orders  to  shoot  the  69th  to  death.  But  you  cannot  kill 
a  regiment ;  replacements  came  in  and  we  still  carried 
on,  and  the  souls  of  the  men  who  had  fallen  marched 
with  us  against  the  foe. 


244  ECHOES  FRO  MOVER  THERE 

We  finished  the  war  before  the  city  of  Sedan,  where 
we  halted  our  advance  to  allow  the  French  to  have 
the  honor  of  marching  first  into  this  city  of  such  great 
historic  significance  to  them.  After  the  signing  of  the 
Armistice,  we  hiked  to  St.  Marie,  Belgium,  and  then 
crossed  the  line  at  Bollondorf,  Germany,  in  December 
to  become  part  of  the  American  Army  of  Occupation. 
We  went  to  Remagen  on  the  Rhine,  and  returned  to 
the  U.  S.  this  spring. 


COMPANY  "A,"  325th  INFANTRY 
December  20,   1918 

From :     CO.  Co.  "A,"  325th  Infantry. 
To:  CO.  325th  Infantry. 

Subject:  History  of   Company  "A,"  325th  Infantry, 
Meuse-Argonne  Operations. 

Company  "A"  first  took  an  active  part  in  the  ad- 
vance on  October  10th,  wrhen  the  first  Battalion  jumped 
from  the  ridge  northwest  of  Chatel  Chehery  with  its 
objective  the  ridges  west  and  northwest  of  Cornay. 

We  were  in  the  support,  following  Company  "C"  at 
300  yards.  When  the  objective  was  reached  "A"  Com- 
pany sent  out  two  platoons  whose  mission  was  to  ad- 
vance to  the  Ayre  River  and  there  establish  outposts 
for  the  night.  At  noon  that  day  these  platoons  reached 
the  high  ground  southeast  of  Marcq  and  were  there 
held  up  by  intense  Artillery  fire  of  both  the  enemy 
and  our  own  forces.  The  two  remaining  platoons, 
stayed  on  the  objective  until  late  that  night,  when  they 
were  sent  out  as  patrols  to  the  Ayre  River  to  seek  for 
suitable  fords  or  crossing  places. 

At  3:00  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  October  11th, 
the  Company  was  recalled  to  the  ridge  Northwest  of 
Cornay  and  proceeded  from  there  through  Cornay  to 
Fleville,  through  Fleville  up  the  Fleville-St.  Juvin 
Road  until  it  reached  the  junction  of  the  Fleville-Som- 
merance  Road.  It  was  then  approximately  7 :00  o'clock 
and  the  entire  Battalion  rested,  in  combat  group  for- 
mations in  the  open  field  west  of  the  road.     Toward 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE  245 

noon  we  were  taken  up  the  Fleville-Sommerance  road, 
but  as  we  proceeded  along  the  road  we  met  the  327th 
Infantry  withdrawing  over  the  hills  from  Sommer- 
ance,  making  it  impossible  to  go  further.  We  retraced 
our  steps  and  then  went  up  toward  St.  Juvin.  At  the 
Junction  of  the  Fleville-Juvin  Road  and  the  Sommer- 
ance-St.  Juvin  Road,  the  Company  Commander,  Cap- 
tain L.  L.  Battey,  was  killed.  The  second  in  command 
received  the  order  to  ''Take  that  hill,"  the  hill  north 
of  the  Sommerance-St.  Juvin  Road  being  indicated. 
The  attack  was  to  start  at  14:30  hours,  although  it 
was  then  14:35.  Arriving  at  the  jumping  off  place,  it 
was  found  that  "L"  Company  was  on  our  left,  and  no 
one  at  all  on  our  right.  Nor  were  there  any  supports. 
The  crest  of  the  hill,  our  objective,  was  taken,  but 
due  to  our  own  Artillery  falling  short  we  had  to  with- 
draw below  the  crest.  That  night,  the  327th  came  up 
and  connected  with  our  right  flank. 

The  next  day,  October  12th,  the  line  was  reorgan- 
ized. "A"  Company  was  in  the  right  front  position, 
with  Company  "D"  on  its  left,  the  327th  on  our  right, 
and  Company  "C"  in  support.  We  remained  in  this 
position  until  the  14th.  On  October  13th,  at  16:00 
hours,  the  enemy  counter-attacked  but  were  driven  off. 

On  October  14th,  at  10:00  o'clock,  we  again  ad- 
vanced, the  formation  being  still  the  same;  this  Com- 
pany on  the  right  front  with  Company  "D"  on  its  left, 
Company  "C"  in  support,  following  at  300  yards,  and 
the  328th,  which  had  relieved  the  327th  on  our  right. 
Severe  resistance  was  encountered  at  86.3,  99.3,  but 
this  was  quickly  overcome,  this  company  capturing 
many  prisoners,  which  were  all  the  prisoners  taken  by 
the  Regiment  that  day,  and  a  number  of  machine  guns. 
The  advance  that  day  continued  until  we  reached  the 
high  ground  north  of  the  Landres-St.  Georges-St. 
Juvin  Road,  just  south  of  the  Ravine  Au  Pierre.  It 
was  utterly  impossible  to  go  farther,  because  the  328th 
had  failed  to  come  up  on  our  right,  and  we  were  sub- 
ject to  murderous  flanking  fire,  both  machine  gun  and 
artillery.     We  had  been  in  constant  liaison  with  the 


246         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

328th,  but  found  now  that  there  was  only  one  platoon 
there,  which  had  become  separated  from  its  Battalion 
and  which  had  advanced  with  us. 

On  the  morning  of  October  15th,  the  enemy  again 
counter-attacked,  and  were  again  repulsed.  They  left 
behind  them  many  dead  and  eight  machine  guns.  "A" 
Company  was  still  in  the  front  line  with  Company 
"C"  in  support,  but  we  had  suffered  so  severely  that 
we  had  to  call  for  two  platoons  from  our  support  to 
reinforce  us. 

On  ihe  afternoon  of  the  15th,  and  the  morning  of 
the  16th,  the  Third  Battalion  attacked.  This  Com- 
pany in  both  instances  was  on  the  right  of  the  support 
Battalion,  500  yards  in  the  rear  of  the  attacking  Bat- 
talion.    No  advance  was  made  on  either  occasion. 

Company  "A"  remained  in  this  position  until  Octo- 
ber 21st,  when  it  was  detailed  as  an  exploitation  patrol 
to  penetrate  into  the  Ravine  Au  Pierre  and  to  estab- 
lish itself  on  the  high  ground  beyond.  The  objective 
was  reached  about  7 :30,  in  spite  of  heavy  machine 
gun  fire  from  the  direction  of  St.  Juvin,  and  concen- 
trated trench-mortar  fire  in  the  Ravine.  A  new  line 
was  consolidated  and  wired  north  of  Au  Pierre,  with 
Company  "A"  on  the  right,  Company  "C"  on  the  left, 
and  the  328th  on  the  right  rear.  There  followed  noth- 
ing further  of  interest.  A  system  of  regular  two-day 
reliefs  by  Battalions  was  instituted,  and  we  thus  moved 
in  rotation,  from  front  line  to  reserve,  reserve  to  sup- 
port, and  from  support  back  to  the  front  line.  At  the 
time  the  Regiment  was  relieved,  we  were  in  the  reserve 

p0siti0n-  Capt,  325th  Inf., 

Herman  Ulmer, 
Comd'g  Co.  "A." 

The  casualties  of  the  82nd  Division  in  France  were : 
Killed  and  wounded,  8,800.  Official  estimate  believed 
to  be  too  low. 

The  casualties  of  the  325th  Infantry  of  the  82nd  Di- 
vision, were :  Officers  killed  and  wounded,  53 ;  en- 
listed men  killed  and  wounded,  1,653;  total,  1,706. 


ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 247 

EXTRACT  FROM  THE  SUMMARY  OF 
INTELLIGENCE 

42nd  Division,  A.  E.  F. 
March  31  to  April  1,  1919 

Miscellaneous 

10.  The  relief  of  the  42nd  Division  from  the  Third 
U.  S.  Army  and  its  assignment  to  the  S.  O.  S.  for 
transportation  to  America  marks  the  close  of  the  third 
epoch  in  its  career  as  a  first  line  Division  of  the  Allied 
Armies. 

Beginning  in  the  latter  part  of  February,  1918,  the 
Division  was  engaged  in  Sector  warfare  in  Lorraine 
for  four  months.  During  this  time  it  occupied  a  front 
once  strongly  organized,  but  which  had  been  allowed 
to  fall  into  decay.  Here  the  Division  maintained  com- 
munications, dug  and  repaired  trenches,  made  and  re- 
pelled raids,  became  accustomed  to  shell  fire,  under- 
went two  projector  gas  attacks  of  considerable  severity 
and  found  itself  as  a  cohesive,  self-reliant  intersup- 
porting  fighting  unit. 

Trained  and  rendered  ruggedly  confident  by  this  ex- 
perience the  Division  embarked  upon  its  second  epoch. 
It  began  its  career  as  a  Shock  Division  in  the  great 
defensive  battle  against  the  Germans  in  Champagne 
on  July  15,  1918.  In  this,  its  first  major  action,  the 
Division  took  a  splendid  part  in  the  bloody  repulse  in- 
flicted by  General  Gourard's  Fourth  Army  upon  the 
great  offensive  and  earned  the  official  and  personal 
commendation  of  the  French  Command.  When  the 
German  advance  had  been  defrvtely  and  forever 
checked  in  this  battle  the  Division  was  moved  overland 
to  the  line  above  Chateau-Thierry  where,  relieving  five 
battered  American  and  Ffeftidi  Divisions  it  advanced 
by  desperate  open  righting  against  cnoice  German 
troops  a  distance  of  19J4  kilometers. 

Relieved  and  sent  to  the  :fcar  for  rest  ari^  replace- 
ments, the  fighting  at  the  front  was  sc  severe  that  the 
Division  could  not  be  spared  and  was  in  a  few  days 


2  18         ECHOES  FROM  OVER  THERE 

returned  to  the  line  to  take  part  in  the  St.  Mihiel 
operation.  After  the  Salient  had  ceased  to  exist,  the 
Division,  pausing  long  enough  to  organize  the  front 
on  its  new  line,  moved  to  the  Argonne.  Attacking  first 
on  the  front  opposite  St.  Georges  and  Landres-et  St. 
Georges  and  there  advancing  until  the  First  Army 
made  its  pause  for  breath,  the  Division  again  attacked 
and  drove  forward  through  countless  obstacles  of  de- 
fense and  terrain  until  it  was  relieved  at  the  Armistice 
in  the  outskirts  of  Sedan,  having  gained  somewhat 
more  than  19  kilometers. 

From  the  area  southeast  of  Sedan  where  the  Divi- 
sion lay  on  November  11th  it  entered  its  third  epoch. 
Marching  overland  through  devastated  country  and 
over  roads  rendered  impassable  by  shell  fire,  mines, 
rain  and  prodigious  traffic  it  proceeded  to  Montmedy 
whence  it  crossed  Belgium,  Luxemburg  and  that  part 
of  Germany  lying  west  of  the  Rhine  until  on  December 
15,  it  reached  its  present  location  after  a  march  of  360 
kilometers.  The  42ncl  Division  has  formed  a  part  of 
the  Army  of  Occupation  from  the  middle  of  November 
until  date  and  during  its  administration  of  Kreis 
Ahrweiler  the  district  has  been  law-abiding,  prosperous 
and  friendly. 

The  42nd  Division  proudly  asserts  that  it  has  spent 
more  days  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  gained  more 
ground  against  the  enemy  and  marched  further  in  its 
operations  than  any  other  Division  in  the  American 
Expeditionary  Forces.  It  has  been  opposed  by  the 
best  Divisions  in  the  German  Army  and  has  made  its 
record  at  their  expense.  Its  fighting  power  has  been 
officially  mentioned  by  the  American,  French  and  Ger- 
man Commands,  and  its  order-  and  discipline  have 
elicited  the  admiration  of  the  Germans  in  its  area  of 
occupation.         -  "..'._:•; 

By  command  of 'Brigadier  General  Gatley. 

..•    ,.      .  •,     •  AVj^iam  H.  Hughes,  Jr. 

"'"       ,    •:  Colonel,  General  Staff. 

Chief  of  Staff. 


DUE  DATE 

:t  o 

" 

. 

SFPl 

1199b 

201-6503 

Printed 
in  USA 

On 

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